Les Yeux du Loup
by DragonDi
Summary: An ancient spell robs Remus Lupin of his human mind and memory, leaving only the wolf. Can Sirius Black help him find his way back to his humanity? Eventual RL/SB slash.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Written for a competition over on LJ for the AU team. Could not have been nearly as good—or would not have been nearly as long—without remuslives23 or planetgal471. (Many thanks, ladies!)

Disclaimer: You know the drill: not mine, belong to JKRowling and her minions, have no money worth suing for...

* * *

"The gaze of the wolf reaches into our soul."—Barry Lopez

"To look into the eyes of a wolf is to see your own soul—hope you like what you see."—Aldo Leopold

* * *

We—the Order of the Phoenix—were completely outnumbered that night in September. James, Lily, Peter, Remus, and I were only three months out of Hogwarts and still learning the Art of Magical Warfare. Alastor Moody had been training us since the end of June, drilling and testing us until we were as weak on our legs as newborn Thestrals. We'd been in a few fights during that time. Nothing could have prepared us for this, however.

The Death Eaters had decided to attack a family in the heart of London. The husband was a half-blood who worked as an Obliviator; The wife was a pure-blood who was the Wizarding ambassador to Belgium. In recent months, the ambassador had begun to use her position to speak out against the Death Eaters' attacks. Voldemort had chosen to make an example of them.

They lived in a neighbourhood crowded with tall, several-storied buildings not far from streets crowded with shoppers, theatre-goers, and diners. When the first spells flew through the air, people scrambled, screaming and panicked, for shelter. We had prepared for the probability that Muggles would be in the area: Lily, Remus, Peter, and Gideon Prewett were in charge of protecting those who couldn't protect themselves from the Death Eaters' fury. The rest of us were to attack the Death Eaters and keep them from completing their mission.

A flurry of spells that were meant to paralyse, Stun, and kill me soon separated me from the rest of the Order. At first, I was so busy countering spells that I didn't notice that I'd been isolated until I found myself hiding behind a car, panting for breath and sweating heavily, despite the cool autumn air.

Maniacal and all-too-recognisable laughter rose above the whining and whistling of spells. I ground my teeth together in frustration. It was Bellatrix who had me trapped. My cousin. My mad cousin.

"Poor widdle Siwius! Won't you come out and play?"

"Fuck off, Bella!" I shouted back as I threw a Stunner at her.

She spat out a word and I swore, seeing my own spell bouncing back at me. I dodged it, but another spell came from seemingly nowhere and slammed into my shoulder, driving me out of the shadow of the car. Bellatrix screamed triumphantly and I heard her shout, "_Crucio_!" Pain like I've never known smashed into me. Every nerve was aflame; every muscle was contracting, making me contort in ways that a human body should never be pulled.

Over my screams, I heard shouts and explosions...

And then suddenly, the agony disappeared, leaving me sweat-drenched, aching, and limp with exhaustion. The night air was like ice against my skin, soothing and comforting, and I let my cheek press against the cool, wet cobbles of the street.

"Dammit, Sirius! _Move_!"

It was James' voice, fraught with worry and tension, but I couldn't obey him. I couldn't even budge when I heard Moody's curse-laden order: "Move your bleeding arse, Black!"

Suddenly, a face appeared above me, and though I couldn't tell from that angle, I knew the eyes were blue and full of concern. "Sirius, can you—?"

Remus' question was interrupted by an orange flash. I couldn't see what was coming, but Remus whispered, "Shit!" and let himself drop onto me. A fiery ball flew over us with an eerie whistle. It dissolved into nothingness almost immediately after it passed us, but, from the heat emanating from it, I didn't doubt it would have fried us to a crisp had it hit.

I looked up into the slight glittering that was Remus' eyes and smiled. "You know my rule against shagging my friends, Moony."

It was a weak joke, and completely inappropriate, but tense moments seemed to bring out the worst in my sense of humour.

Remus gave a snort of amusement. "Can you walk?" he asked, casting a quick glance around us.

"Not with you on me," I replied.

"Arse. Let's go." He waved his wand, muttered, "_Protego_," and then stood, pulling me to my feet and then pressing my weak body against his to keep me upright.

There was an alley—maybe a dragon's-length away—and Remus started to help me in that direction. A Death Eater, probably thinking we were an easy target, rushed out from the shelter of a doorway. With amazing quickness, Remus threw a Stunner at him and I saw the masked figure fall bonelessly to the ground.

Another Death Eater—bloody Bella's husband, Rodolphus, I think—suddenly scurried out of the alley we were heading for and aimed his wand at us. Remus yelled, "_Protego_!" again as the spell streaked toward us. The purple line of light dissolved into sparks that showered the area around us in a ten foot diameter.

Rodolphus threw another spell at us. I weakly flicked my wand to turn it aside. It passed by us, but just barely.

"There!" Remus shouted, shoving me toward the recessed doorway of an electronics shop. "Go!"

I started to stagger in that direction. Rodolphus fired another spell at Remus who deflected it. Then, I heard the beginning words of a spell and pivoted to look at Rodolphus in shock. The spell was one of Dark magic, something I'd read about in books. It was something that was probably as old as Merlin himself. And my cousin's husband was aiming it at _me_.

Time slowed to a crawl.

I saw something green, tinged with blue, uncurl from Rodolphus' wand. It swirled, nebulously, in the air between him and me. Then, as if sensing the caster's intent, it surged toward me. I could only stand there, staring at it, unable to move.

I glimpsed motion from the corner of my eye. Suddenly something smashed into me from the side, shoving me into the doorway. I crashed into the door and spun around just in time to see the turquoise light completely engulf Remus.

He froze, as if every muscle had locked into place, and then he fell to the ground.

I heard Lily scream Remus' name, and the fight was renewed with incredible vigour on both sides. I launched myself in my friend's direction, not caring if Rodolphus would be standing there waiting for me. Fortunately, he wasn't; someone had forced him back into the alley again, leaving me time and space to see to Remus. He was starting to move, trying to get up on his knees.

"Remus!" I gripped the shoulder of his jacket and tugged at him.

He turned his head to look at me, baring his teeth.

I jerked my hand back. Under the weak light of the streetlamp nearest us, I could see that his eyes were not their usual blue. They were golden: the colour that belonged to the wolf that lived within Remus.

And then I heard the grumble deep in his chest.

"Oh, bloody hell," I whispered.

He was glaring at me, slowly turning on his hands and knees until he was facing me.

"Remus," I said quietly. "It's me, Sirius."

There was no recognition in the amber eyes. Hell, there was no comprehension at all.

I was vaguely aware of the sounds of Disapparition, but I kept my eyes on the man in front of me. "Remus, say something. Talk to me."

He snarled and my mouth went dry.

"Moony! Padfoot!" James' voice made me jump. I hadn't noticed the pounding of his shoes on the pavement.

Startled, Remus crouched until his chest was almost scraping the concrete, turning to look at James with another warning snarl.

I threw a hand up in James' direction. "Stop, James!"

The volume of my order brought Remus' attention back to me and I hurried to speak more quietly, more soothingly. "It's just James. He's worried. He didn't mean to startle you."

"What's happened?" James gasped.

"It was Rodolphus," I said, trying to keep my tone level. "I think we're going to need Moody, James. Could you, please?" I smiled at Remus. "Right, Moony? Maybe Moody can get you straightened out."

James, smart man, didn't question me at all. Instead, he slowly backed away until we both saw some of the tension leave Remus' body. Then he turned and ran, pausing to yell to Peter and Lily, both now approaching, to stay clear of us.

For the next couple of minutes, I didn't stop talking. I could tell that Remus was uneasy and confused. His eyes darted around, taking in his surroundings and the people standing just outside his comfort range. He did allow me to shift closer to him, and I found that encouraging.

As Moody approached, Remus raised his head and I saw his lips curl away from his teeth.

"No, Remus! It's alright!" I said, stealing a look at the Auror.

He did not look happy in any way. "What spell did Lestrange hit him with?" Moody demanded gruffly.

Remus bristled at the tone and started to edge away from Moody—and also away from me. Without thinking, I reached out and lightly gripped his arm. "No, Moony. Stay."

I should have known better than to grab for him. His reaction was typical of any wounded animal caught in a trap: he yelped and then lunged forward, burying his teeth into my forearm. I was wearing my leather jacket, but it still hurt like hell.

I yelled, startled, and I heard Lily shout, "No! Don't!" just as Moody raised his wand and fired a spell to knock Remus back. He rolled over into the street, and the Auror shot off yet another two or three spells in quick succession, finally ending with a Binding spell.

"You didn't have to do that!" James protested angrily. "He was out!"

"But I don't know for how long," Moody pointed out gruffly. There was worry in his eyes when he turned to me and asked harshly, "He didn't break the skin, did he?"

I shuddered slightly at the thought. Granted, I couldn't become a full werewolf, because Remus wasn't transformed, but who knew what the affects from a bite from a non-transformed werewolf would be? I'd spent seven years with Remus. I knew how the full moon affected his health, his emotions, and his psyche. I wasn't anxious to experience it personally. I pulled the sleeve up to see how badly I'd been bitten. There was an impressive red semicircle on either side of my forearm, but my skin was, fortunately, intact.

A Muggle police car, no doubt dispatched because of the noise of the fight, turned the corner, its lights flashing blue and red. It lit up the area much as the spells had been doing only moments before and a chill ran down my spine.

Moody cursed and then started issuing orders. "Everyone back to headquarters. Black, Potter, grab Lupin—but leave those bindings on him, you hear me? I'll deal with the Muggles. And Evans? Get Dumbledore—tell him it's an emergency."

* * *

Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix was located near the Rotherhithe area of London, which once had been an area full of busy docks. The large brick building was owned by an Order member's brother—Elphias Doge's, I think. He'd once used it as a boarding house for dockworkers. Now, the dockyards were mostly closed and the boarding house was rundown and shabby. It was perfect for our purposes: it was out of the eyes of wizarding London and was completely inconspicuous. It had an enormous dining room that served well for Order meetings and several bedrooms upstairs made it convenient for anyone needing a quick nap or medical attention.

That night, six of us crowded onto shabby settees and worn armchairs in the small lounge to hear Edgar Bones' diagnosis of Remus' condition. Bones wasn't a Healer, but he knew more about Dark magic spells than anyone. It seemed inevitable that Dumbledore and Moody would ask him to come to headquarters to look at Remus.

"The curse is an incredibly dangerous piece of ancient Dark magic that attacks a person's mind," Bones said, referring to a piece of parchment upon which he'd taken some notes. "How much of one's personality and memories are erased depends on the strength of the caster and the strength of mind of the recipient."

"Can the damage be reversed? Will everything come back?" James asked. His hands were clasped together so tightly that his knuckles were white. Lily was standing behind him with her hands on his shoulders, her knuckles just as pale. I noticed that Peter, sitting at James' left hand, looked as sick as I felt.

Bones was a blunt, matter-of-fact sort. He didn't believe in equivocation or sugar-coating the truth. He certainly didn't try now. "Sometimes the memories come back, sometimes they don't. And there's no telling which it will be in any particular case. And there is absolutely no precedence whatsoever for a werewolf being struck with this spell. There's no way anyone can predict what's going to happen to Lupin. He might get his humanity back, he might not."

Frankly, I'd always thought Edgar Bones was a son of a bitch.

"So, what can be done?" Lily's voice was quiet, but in the silence that had fallen after Edgar Bones finished talking, it seemed overly strident.

The Headmaster folded his hands together. "Unfortunately, there doesn't seem to be anything we can do but wait." He looked unusually grave.

I closed my eyes. It didn't change the words, but it kept me from seeing the looks of disbelief and horror on the faces around the room.

"There are potions we can give him to help blunt the damage and encourage memory retention," Bones said. He added warningly, "Don't expect much from them. If he's lost his mind completely, it's gone, and there will be nothing we can do to get it back."

I heard a curse word and it took me a moment to realise I had uttered it myself.

"What do we do with him while we wait?" Peter whispered.

I hadn't thought of that. If the wolf had taken over, there were a limited number of places where Remus could stay, and his tiny flat—right in the middle of a Muggle neighbourhood—wasn't one of them.

"Can't he stay here?" I asked. "We've already got him settled in upstairs."

Moody looked thoughtful, but Edgar Bones cleared his throat. "There may be some members of the Order that will be uncomfortable with having a feral werewolf on the premises."

"He's not feral. He's—" James began to protest.

Dumbledore raised a hand to stop him. "I think we may have to consider him as such until he comes to his senses. From what you all have told me, and from what I've discerned, there are only the thoughts, the feelings, and the instincts of the wolf available to him. We will need to find a place for him that is secure."

"His mother hasn't been the same since his father died," Lily said softly, her hands clenched tightly into fists of helplessness. Her voice shook when she added, "She'll never be able to handle him in this state."

"Could we set him up in the Shrieking Shack?" Moody asked, looking at Dumbledore.

"It's hardly liveable for anyone who will be staying with him. And he will need someone to stay with him."

I couldn't bear to hear any more. I pushed my chair back and got to my feet. "I'm going to check on him."

"Don't release him from those ropes," Moody warned me as I walked out.

I said nothing. I thought that would ultimately be better than telling Moody what I was really thinking about what he could do with his warning.

We had cleared out a bedroom on the second floor and had reinforced the walls and doors so that Remus couldn't break out, even if he did somehow manage to break the bonds that Moody had placed on him. Tapping the keyhole with the tip of my wand, I heard a soft click and the door swung open... I walked into a scene straight out of a Muggle horror movie.

Remus had awakened and had been trying to free himself of the magical bonds around his wrists and ankles. He couldn't know that the ropes were actually strands of magic, not something that he could chew through. He had been gnawing at the bonds, taking chunks of his skin when he couldn't get his teeth around the ropes. Blood was all over the damned place—and him.

"Bloody hell!" I gasped. I didn't stop to think of myself. I only thought of stopping Remus from chewing his own hands off. I sprinted toward the bed, yelling, "Don't, Moony! Stop!"

He raised his head and snarled at me through blood-smeared lips. "I don't care what Moody says," I muttered as I drew my wand. "_Relashio_!"

The bonds disappeared, and Remus' eyes widened as he regarded his torn and bloody wrists. I muttered a few quick Cleaning spells to get the blood off his face, wrists, and hands, and the sheets of the bed.

"We've got to heal those," I said. He growled as I extended my hand toward him. "Come on," I coaxed. "Let me see."

He raised one wrist to his lips and lapped at it, just like a wolf, and my heart broke. This was _Remus_, one of the most gentlemanly blokes I knew. He was usually polite, well-spoken, and intelligent—and there was nothing left of that.

Moony's suspicious golden eyes were still fastened on me, and he completely ignored my hand. I knew he was waiting to see what I would do next.

"Oh, hells," I sighed. I didn't know what to do. The wounds needed healing—preferably before anyone else came upstairs and saw what had been done. "They're calling you feral. They consider you a wild animal. You're _not_!" I emphasised the last word just a little too strongly for his comfort. His lips twisted into an uncertain scowl and he retreated until his back was against the wall.

"You're not an animal," I repeated more quietly. "You're in there somewhere. But where?"

He growled softly at me.

"I can't even bloody talk to you!" I whispered. I'm not ashamed to say my voice cracked a bit and my eyes filled with hot tears of frustration. "How can I convince you to come out from behind the wolf if you can't even understand me?"

And suddenly I realised that there was something I could do. There was one way that I could communicate with the wolf.

I took a deep breath and, keeping my eyes on Remus', I transformed into a big, black dog. I hoped it would seem familiar to Remus, or at least to the wolf that had taken over. After all, the wolf and the black dog had spent many moonlit nights romping through fields and forests.

Unfortunately, my hopes were all for naught. Remus' eyes widened in shock at my transformation and he yelped. He couldn't go back any further because of the wall, but he was making a valiant attempt at pushing himself through it. His feet propelled him backward and then up, until he was standing on the bed, his hands scrabbling for some kind of handhold. I had no doubt that if those long fingers of his could have found cracks or niches, he'd have been working his way to the ceiling.

I laid my chin on the edge of the bed and whined softly. He slowly tilted his head to one side in such a Remus–like way that I couldn't help but be amused. I backed away from the bed, wagging my tail. He watched as I slowly lowered myself onto my belly and flopped onto my back in canine submission. I stayed that way for a full minute until I sensed some of his tension ease. Then, slowly, I rolled over, keeping my eyes on his chin. I knew from years of experience with the wolf that if I stared into his eyes it would be seen as a sign of aggression.

After another minute, I rose to my feet and rested my chin on the bed again. He was still staring at me in disbelief and astonishment. I woofed softly and then whined.

After what seemed to be an interminable amount of time, he slowly lowered himself to his knees. I didn't move as he leaned closer to me and tentatively buried his nose in the fur above my ear. I heard the snuffling and felt the warmth of his breath. His wounded left wrist was right in front of me. It was almost as much canine instinct as desire to get Remus-the-wolf to accept me that I let my tongue gingerly touch the wound. He tensed, but didn't pull away, so I began to lick at the blood and the torn flesh.

While I worked, I noticed the subtle shifting in his muscles as he relaxed further. I heard him whimper very, very softly right before he rested his head against mine. Another minute or two later, I felt his other hand touch my side. His fingers combed through the longish fur there and then the weight of his arm gently fell across my spine.

I waited a moment and then smoothly transformed back into my human form. He stiffened and started to pull away. I hurriedly wrapped my arms around him, whining in my best canine-like way.

He went limp against me.

It was at that moment I knew what I had to do.

* * *

"Sirius, you can't!"

James was always so supportive of my plans and schemes, but this one made him wonder for my sanity. Or so I assume, from the fact he said I was 'mad as a hatter and dafter than a pixie' when I first told him what I'd decided.

"Yes, I can. I have to."

"But —"

"You can argue with me all you want, but it's not going to change my mind."

"We need you here!"

"Moony needs me more."

James couldn't argue with that, I knew. They'd been arguing about what to do with Remus for almost half an hour when James had decided to trudge up the stairs to see what kind of mischief I was making. He had found Remus and me lying together on the bed, our arms wrapped around each other tightly. When Remus had seen him, he had growled deep in his chest and moved away quickly, hiding behind me. That had clarified what I'd already decided: because of my Animagus form, I was in a unique position to help our troubled friend.

"Are you truly committed to this course of action?" Dumbledore asked me, stroking his beard thoughtfully.

I nodded firmly. "He needs me," I repeated.

"It may take months for him to recover," Moody pointed out. "Are you willing to make yourself his keeper for that long?"

"It doesn't matter," I shot back at him, not bothering to hide a rather wolfish snarl of my own. I couldn't understand why no one seemed to accept that my plan made sense. "He saved my life. I owe him."

"What if he doesn't recover?" Moody persisted.

"I can't believe that he won't," I said. "I need to believe he's there, behind the wolf. And I'm going to pull him back."

James and Lily brightened at my firm conviction. Peter chewed his lip with uncertainty. The others looked sceptical.

"Do you have a place in mind?" Dumbledore asked quietly.

"No," I admitted. Then I barked out a curt laugh. "I'd only got as far as realising I'm responsible for him."

"He's dangerous," Moody suddenly growled. "What if he turns on you?"

"He won't," I said.

"He ripped his own wrists open trying to chew the bindings off! How do you know you won't find those teeth ripping into you?"

"He won't," I stated again, more insistently. "He trusts me."

"How can you bloody tell?"

It was at that point that apprehension set in. No one outside of the four of us mates—and Lily, of course—knew about our Animagus abilities. I couldn't tell Dumbledore, Moody, or Bones about my canine form; not without causing trouble for James and Peter. We risked a year in Azkaban because we weren't registered. "I just know," I finally said.

Both Dumbledore and Moody gave me long, searching stares, and, though I wanted to squirm beneath the weight of their piercing eyes, I didn't.

The Headmaster's eyebrows lowered slightly. "Sirius, please remember you are among friends here. There are none here who wish you harm. We are merely concerned with making certain that both you and Remus will be safe and content in this arrangement. Surely you must see that a little truth will go a long way to reassure us and provide the justification we need to prove your sincerity in your assertion that he trusts you."

I licked my lips nervously. "Isn't my word enough?"

"Considering the state of the wizarding world at this time, no one's word is enough," Moody snapped.

I glanced at James. He was looking at Lily but I was surprised to see that she had her eyes on me. I raised an eyebrow in mute question. She turned her gaze to James and they had some kind of nonverbal conversation that ended with them both smiling gently at each other.

We then looked at Peter, who was already nodding resolutely.

James turned to me and smiled. "Show them, Padfoot." Or maybe he said, "Show them Padfoot." I still don't know. At any rate, I took a deep breath to calm myself then reached for the energy I would need... then I transformed into the dog.

Dumbledore and Moody had seen many odd things in their years. That was probably the only reason why they didn't react, beyond highly raised eyebrows.

"Very impressive," the Headmaster finally said. "Are you aware of the penalty for being an unregistered Animagus, Sirius?"

I slid back into my human form. "Yes, sir, I am."

Moody scratched at the side of his jaw, snorting with faint amusement. "Only you, Black, would have the Grim as an Animagus form."

"Am I to assume that you've already shown Remus the dog?" Dumbledore asked. At my nod, he went on. "And what was his reaction?"

"He was startled at first, but he accepted me."

The Headmaster looked over at James and Peter, the question in his eyes.

"What the hell," Peter sighed. Within seconds, he had shrunk into a rat.

"Well, Potter?" Moody gestured at James, who smiled.

"My form isn't quite as convenient for indoors," he said. "I'm a stag."

"Well, now those ridiculous nicknames make sense," Moody commented. He looked at me and snickered. "_Padfoot_."

"We'll talk more about this later," Dumbledore promised, motioning for Peter to return to his human form. "And while I cannot condone the lack of registration, I will admit that I am impressed at the skill you three have shown," he smiled gently at Peter, as if he knew the number of hours that Peter had struggled, "and the persistence. I know the transformation requires much preparation and fortitude. Congratulations."

"Now, about Lupin. Where are we going to hide him?" Moody asked, bringing our focus back to the present situation.

Dumbledore stroked his beard gently. "I have an idea," he admitted slowly. "Sirius, do you speak French?"

* * *

A friend of Dumbledore's owned a small cottage outside Arles, France, and he had previously offered it to Dumbledore for whatever purposes the Order might have need. The Headmaster assured me that it was big enough for two. There was even a cellar that, with the right spells, would contain a transformed werewolf during the full moons.

I hurriedly packed my belongings, knowing that I'd probably forget things I would desperately need later. Clothes, books, groceries... I miniaturised everything until I could fit it all into one large suitcase, and used a Shrinking Charm on that suitcase as well. After a last look around, I went out to the street where my motorbike was parked.

As I got ready to swing my leg over the seat, there was a crack of Apparition behind me. I turned quickly, raising my wand in readiness.

"Hold on, Padfoot! It's me!" James said. He held up a small suitcase. "I packed Remus' things for him. Merlin, he's got a lot of books!"

"That's because he won't let us buy essentials like clothes and food for him on his birthday and Christmas," I replied with just a touch of bitterness. "I'm heading back to headquarters. Want a ride?"

He grinned. "Why do you think I came here instead of going straight there? It will be a while before I get to ride her again."

A sudden thought occurred to me and I ran my hand over the seat of my bike. "I won't be able to take her with me."

"Who are you talking about?" James asked, but almost before he finished asking the question, he shook his head. "Never mind. I know. I'm sure Dumbledore will let you keep her at headquarters. There's that gardening shed out back."

"No, I'm not leaving her there. Fabian Prewett wants to get his hands on her." I took a deep breath. "Will you take her? I know you'll keep her safe."

"If I take her, Lily will have a bloody cow, mate."

"It's not like you're going to fly her around town every night! C'mon, James. As a favour to me."

He sighed and ran his hand over the back of his hair. I noticed it didn't even take him twenty seconds to give me an answer, even though Lily's wrath was legendary. "All right. I'll do it."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "You sound a little too eager, Potter. Maybe she'll be better off with Fabian Prewett after all."

He laughed, but didn't dispute me. Instead, he slapped me on the back and motioned to the motorcycle. "Let's get going, Padfoot."

We took the long way around London. I couldn't help but feel a sort of finality to our little tour, as if I were giving myself a last chance to look at places that had meant something to me at one point or another. The enormity of what I had agreed to do was sinking in. I'd be alone in another country with Remus, who certainly was not going to be much for companionship, much less pleasant conversation. With a lot of luck, we'd be back within a month. I think I knew even then that it would be longer than that.

When we finally pulled up in front of the building that served as the Order headquarters, we dismounted and stood staring at each other silently.

"Will you understand if I just leave you here?" James asked, his voice cracking.

I nodded, tears threatening to form in my eyes. He threw his arms around me and I hugged him back just as tightly.

"Bring our sarcastic, clever, stick-in-the-mud back to us, Sirius," James whispered.

"I'll do everything I can," I vowed. I wiped my eyes on his shoulder and he pulled back sharply, craning his neck to look at the damp patch.

"You're not wiping your snotty nose on my jacket, are you? Stupid prat."

I chuckled through my tears then sobered. "Promise me you'll kill Rodolphus the next time you see him, alright? If I find out that you had the chance to kill him and didn't, I'll rip the antlers right out of your head."

He nodded. "If I don't get him, I'll make sure we save him for you. Or Moony."

"Moony's not the vengeful type," I reminded him.

"He might be after this." James smiled sadly. "Stuck with you for who knows how long, in France of all places? He'll probably recover quickly just so he can get away from you."

"Gods, I hope he does," I said softly.

James held his hand out and I clasped it firmly. "Take care of yourself, Padfoot. And come back as soon as you can."

I nodded, unable to say anything else.

We hugged one last time and then I watched him drive off on my motorbike. It was the only time that I wondered if I was doing the right thing.

**My boss just told me that they've noticed I've been depressed and unusually stressed and has suggested (nicely) that if I don't get myself together, I should consider another job. A review might lift my spirits just a tad...**


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Written for a competition over on LJ for the AU team. Could not have been nearly as good—or would not have been nearly as long—without remuslives23 or planetgal471. (Many thanks, ladies!)

Disclaimer: You know the drill: not mine, belong to JKRowling and her minions, have no money worth suing for...

* * *

"The gaze of the wolf reaches into our soul."—Barry Lopez

"To look into the eyes of a wolf is to see your own soul—hope you like what you see."—Aldo Leopold

* * *

While I had been gone, Moody and Dumbledore had arranged a series of Portkeys to get to Arles, and we had two hours before the first one activated. There was a lot of discussion about how we were going to get Remus there without him panicking or attacking someone. Lily, who'd stayed to see us off, gave Moody an earful when he suggested we just use an animal crate.

It was finally decided to more or less overdose Remus with some Calming Draughts. Moody, anticipating I might need them, also showed me a number of Pacification Spells used by Aurors to quell Dark wizards who decided not to cooperate.

"Between all that, we should be able to get him to the house without having to Stun or muzzle him," Moody said.

I carefully mixed the potions in some tea, hoping there would be enough of Remus left to remember that he liked tea, hoping he might drink it without putting up a fight.

I found him sitting in a corner of the room where I'd left him, his arms wrapped around his knees which were pulled tightly to his chest. He glared at me, but when I whined softly, his stare softened.

"Hey, Moony," I said, smiling. "Are you thirsty?" Out of nervousness and the hope of soothing him, I rambled a bit about how we'd have breakfast at our new place in just a couple of hours and then started listing our food choices as I approached him. He watched me warily, but didn't move.

When I was only an arm's length away, I knelt, holding the mug out toward him. He stared at it, and then tilted his head to the side. Slowly, he moved until he was up on his knees. He glanced from me to the mug, his nose twitching at the aroma of the tea that rose like the steam from its surface.

"You'll have to be careful," I warned him. "It's hot."

I was waiting for him to reach for the mug, so I was shocked when he suddenly dipped his head toward the vessel as if he were going to lap at the contents like a dog. Or a wolf.

"No, Moony!" I was so stunned that I yelled the words as I pulled the mug away, making it slosh over my hand. We both yelped: me from the shock of the hot liquid and Remus from fright as he curled into a ball in the corner, cowering away from me.

"Shit!" I whispered. I had known it would be difficult. Now I was realising it was going to be even more difficult than I had originally thought. If he couldn't even remember how to drink from a mug, what other things had he forgotten?

"Moony, I'm sorry," I said softly. "Come on, now." I saw his shoulders tighten as I moved closer, and heard the low warning growl as I touched his shoulder. "I know you have to be thirsty," I told him, suddenly and ashamedly realising that he'd probably not had anything to drink since he'd been here in this room — at least five hours now.

"Fine keeper I'm going to make for you," I muttered.

It took a good five minutes to get him to turn around and look at me. His eyes were focussed on the mug, though, and I knew he might not have responded to my cajoling if he weren't thirsty.

"Watch, Moony," I said. I raised the mug to my lips and pretended to take a drink, remembering at the last second that there was a strong Calming Draught in it—something, I mused, _I _might need later.

He watched me carefully, his eyebrows lowering with concentration. If it weren't for the amber eyes, I would have thought he was our usual Remus, puzzling over an Arithmancy problem or a Runes translation.

I held the mug out to him. "Here. You try."

Slowly, he reached for the mug, watching my fingers closely. I couldn't help but feel a moment of triumph once the small object had left my hands and was nestled, however awkwardly, in his. Still, the moment was bittersweet because the easy grace with which he usually held his tea had disappeared. I tried not to think that it might be gone for good.

He had the knack of it by the time he finished the tea and I could already see that the Draught was slightly dulling his eyes and slowing his breathing. The time he took in finishing the tea gave me more time to list other things that Remus would need to know — and probably the most important thing was to come next.

I took the empty mug from his hand and sighed. "How about a trip to the loo, Moony?"

* * *

An hour or so before dawn, we found ourselves in an alley next to a branch of the French version of the Ministry of Magic right in the middle of Arles. Remus had stiffened and tried to pull away from us just as the first Portkey activated, but a quick spell of Moody's made him completely submissive.

"I need to be able to use this spell on him when he's back in his right mind," I said, as I steered him toward the front of the building.

"Use it beyond what I'm permitting and you'll find yourself in Azkaban," the Auror threatened me. "It's just a step lower than an Imperius. Now, you two stay here while I go in and report we've brought a werewolf into the country."

"Will that be a problem?" I asked, suddenly remembering an instance when Remus had been refused entrance into France during a panic about a feral werewolf pack near Nantes.

"You let me deal with them," Moody replied with something like sadistic glee. "They owe me for Francois Boulanger."

"Do I want to know?"

He laughed curtly, making Remus jerk in startled response. "There's a five inch long scar on my hip thanks to that bugger, and the French Ministère knows that."

We stood against the front of the building, and just to fill up the time, I started talking to Remus, wondering what our new home would be like. He wasn't able to contradict or drily discount my more wild ramblings. I pointed that out to him with a certain amount of smugness.

A woman suddenly stepped out of the door of the seemingly vacant building against which we were leaning. She turned, saw us, and gave me a bright smile. "MonsieurBlack?"

"Sirius, _s'il vous plaît_," I said, offering her one of my most charming grins in return.

"I am Claire Lambert, a member of what you might call the Magical Creature Department." Her lips lightly brushed both of my cheeks in greeting.

"And this is Monsieur Lupin?" She eyed him carefully, but not as warily as he was watching her.

I verified that and watched as she waved a wand in his direction. "I am only recording his identification number," she said by way of explanation to my questioning gaze.

Remus shifted uneasily, edging away from her until I touched his arm. "It's okay, Moony."

She raised an eyebrow. "Moony?"

I shrugged and grinned. "Nickname."

Claire took a slow step toward him, speaking softly to him in French. I couldn't hear everything she said, but from what I could, she was merely telling him that she wasn't going to harm him and that he was welcome to stay as long as he needed to. I think she said something about me, but she leaned toward him conspiratorially so I couldn't hear clearly. He seemed more curious than threatened by her and I was very, very relieved.

"I will be visiting your residence within the next day or two to inspect the wards and the protective measures you will be using to contain your _loup_-_garou_," she said, almost briskly, when she was finished talking to my friend. "Monsieur Moody informs us that there is a cellar that can be used to restrain him during the full moon."

"I haven't seen it yet," I said. "But I will set things up right away."

She nodded. "That would be advisable."

At that point, a small automobile turned the corner and pulled up in front of us. Moody stepped out of the car and waved a hand toward the rear seat. "Gentlemen, if you're finished?"

Remus did not like the idea of getting into the small car, and it pained me when Moody said, "You're going to have to Stun him, Black. Might as well get used to the idea."

I did it while Remus wasn't looking. It felt cowardly, hitting a defenseless man with a Stunner while he had his back to me. The alternative of letting him see and know that a wave of my wand could send him into unconsciousness—or possibly worse—would only hinder my attempts to get him to trust me completely.

While he was in the back of the car, I checked his wrists. I'd healed them earlier—before James had come to find us— but hadn't looked at them since. They seemed to be doing well. Moody, leaning over my shoulder, approved as well.

The driver, a French Ministère worker who spoke very little English, watched bemusedly as we manhandled the sleeping Moony into the car. He made no effort to help us, though he did offer me a cigarette, which I gratefully accepted.

"Filthy habit," Moody muttered. "Don't think you're smoking that thing in the car."

I tossed the unfinished cigarette onto the sidewalk and deliberately ground it into the concrete with the toe of my shoe, keeping my eyes on the Auror's. "Let's go, then," I said. I suppose I was being a bit of a smart arse about it, but within an hour, I was going to be left with Moony in a place I didn't know with no one familiar nearby to rely on. Even condemned Muggles get a chance at a last cigarette.

However, as we made our way through the city and then out into the rural areas surrounding Arles, I found myself enjoying the first glimpses of the area in which Remus and I were now going to live.

The buildings became fewer and farther between as we drove, and the air became less oppressive. Now I could see trees and, off to the side, hills and a skyline that was now beginning to glow with the rising sun. The area we were heading into was flatter—a place of agriculture and marshlands. Flocks of birds rose from the fields and we passed more than one farmhand on their way to work.

The cottage was small and constructed of grey stone that was weathered by the sun and wind until it was bleached almost white. The thick wooden door and shutters on every window were painted a dark green. Window boxes at every window were unkempt with weeds. A small stone fence marked out a garden in the front, and the smell of grapes came from an uncontrolled tangle of vines to the left. Peeking over the top of the red tile roof were two large juniper trees. And while I stood there taking this all in, a large, long-necked white bird with long legs flew over us.

"Bonne chance," the driver of the car said, pointing to the bird. He tapped his forehead with his fingertips as if trying to remember something, then smiled broadly. "Stork," he declared, pointing again in the bird's direction. "Is good luck."

"We can use some of that," I said.

From where I stood, I could see three other houses, but a walk to the closest one would be equivalent to three city blocks.

I breathed deeply, and was overcome by a veritable smorgasbord of smells: the sweet fruitiness of the grapes; the tangy salt of the nearby marshes; and the wild fullness of the grasses.

Never had I felt as much at home anywhere as I did when we arrived in the Camargue.

* * *

I used some muscle and a Levitation spell or two to get Remus out of the car before I revived him. Moody warned me that I should bind him before awakening him; that he'd be so disoriented and frightened by the new surroundings that he'd either attack or bolt.

I looked around and took another deep breath. "No," I said with a shake of my head. "He'll be fine."

I don't know how I knew. Maybe I was expecting too much of him. Maybe I was putting too much of what I was feeling into my assumption. But there was just something about this country, about this area that soothed me—and I knew Remus would sense the same thing.

I held my breath as his eyes fluttered opened, hoping the blue would be back—but I wasn't surprised to see the amber orbs. Watching him as he took in the new sights and smells as I had, I realised I wasn't overly disappointed. We could make a good home here, I thought. It would be nice to get away from the chaos of London and war. And then immediately I kicked myself mentally for my thoughts. We were here for Remus. I should have been disappointed that Remus wasn't back in his own mind when he awoke.

"All right, then, Moony?" I asked quietly, watching him closely.

He sat up slowly, his eyes wide, but not frightened. He looked at me and tilted his head as if asking me to explain the situation.

"We're home, Moony," I told him simply. I couldn't help the big grin that spread across my face.

I was pleasantly surprised when he tentatively smiled back.

I was exhausted, but adrenaline and excitement had me exploring all aspects of the house, dragging Remus behind me and pointing out the rooms, the colours, the furniture. I opened up cabinets and drawers, checked inside wardrobes and closets, keeping a running monologue as we went.

"Look, Moony! Look at that red! You can have this chair, I'll take that one. Wait! Did you see these window sills? They're so deep! You can sit here and read—well, once you remember how to read, that is. Suppose there are any Boggarts in this closet?"

He followed me willingly enough. I think he was just as curious about the place as I was. We went upstairs to the bedrooms. One was painted light green and had a beautiful handmade quilt of dark greens and reds against an ivory background spread across a large bed made of some kind of dark wood. A wardrobe and dressing table of similar wood shared the room and paintings and Muggle photographs dotted the walls.

The sole window faced the west and I went to look through it. "I hope the bedrooms are the same size or we'll have to flip a Knut to see who gets which room. I like the green, but—Moony?"

I'd turned back around and he wasn't there. I felt my heart stop. "Moony?"

I darted out into the narrow hallway, glanced into the loo—noticing it was surprisingly modern in comparison to the rest of the house—and then ran on into the other bedroom.

Remus was standing by the small window that looked out to the east. His eyes were closed in obvious pleasure as the sun's rays streamed through the window, bathing him in the strengthening warmth. It stunned me, because I had never seen Remus look as content as he did right at that moment; and I'd known him for seven years.

I glanced around the bright turquoise room. It was almost garish, making me feel like I was inside a fishbowl. It had a small bed with a dark red bedspread and a small table in the corner near the window. A small dresser and two chairs and several paintings around the room completed the furnishings. It was substantially smaller than the other room, and a door set in the one wall opened into a small storage area full of old trunks and odds and ends.

"Moony?" I walked over and put my hand on his shoulder.

He opened his eyes and turned to me.

"I'm guessing that you want this room," I said softly. "Yes?"

He cocked his head to one side and one eyebrow lowered in confusion.

I pointed in the direction of the other bedroom. "That room? Or this room?" I made a sweeping motion with my hand and then pointed to the small bed. I did it several more times before finally taking Remus' arm and tugging him out of the room. He let me take him into the hallway, but when I tried to take him back into the green bedroom, he resisted my gentle pull.

I released his arm so I could again gesture to the two rooms and ask him which one he would prefer. I didn't have to. As soon as he was freed, he edged backwards and away from me for a few tentative steps—and then turned and darted back into that gods-awful turquoise room.

I grinned—our sleeping arrangements were settled.

* * *

I made a quick breakfast of eggs and sausage (all brought from our refrigerators at home and charmed to stay cold) and used an hour and several Warming charms to teach Remus how to eat with a fork. It was amazing to me how many of our daily actions were learned and not instinctive, and I knew it would be quite a while before I ever took those things for granted.

I relentlessly kept up a one-sided conversation with him. I did notice that, toward the end, he was becoming more comfortable with the fork and was paying attention to me. Actually, I felt like he was studying me as he used to study the magical creatures that Professor Kettleburn had shown us in school. I suppose it could have made me uneasy; instead, I made a point of modelling other behaviours: using a napkin, using a knife and spoon, buttering toast...

It made me laugh to suddenly realise that he was holding his eating utensils like I did. He wasn't doing anything wrong—I'd been brought up to eat in a very proper and dignified manner—but I never had realised how many personal idiosyncrasies went into something as simple as handling a fork. It seemed out of place, seeing my grip imposed upon his long fingers.

_It's wrong,_ my mind whispered. But I had to start somewhere. I thanked every god I could think of that Remus was clever and capable of picking things up fairly quickly.

Reckoning it wouldn't hurt to use magic when there weren't Muggles around—and coming to that conclusion quickly and guiltlessly because I hated to wash dishes—I cleaned up with a few well-placed charms and then led Remus upstairs to our bedrooms for some sleep. I put a charm across his doorway so that if he walked out of the room, an alarm would sound.

He practically collapsed onto his bed, looking as tired as I felt, so I doubted I'd have to worry about an escape.

It was late afternoon and the sun was shining through my bedroom window when I awoke to the sound of a bell ringing somewhere in the house. I quickly snagged my denims and slid them up my legs, hurrying to button and zip as I ran toward Remus' room. He was sitting up in his bed, hair tousled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with his fists. Confused now, because it wasn't my spell going off, I ran down the steps to the front door and yanked it open.

"Well, Monsieur Black. This is an interesting way you have of greeting people," Claire Lambert said, smiling smugly at my bare chest.

"We were having a kip, er, sleeping. We didn't sleep much last night," I offered by way of apology.

"It is not a problem," she said. "May I come in and see what arrangements you've made for Monsieur Moony?" Her brown eyes twinkled at the nickname.

I hadn't made any as of yet, and told her as much. "I meant to," I continued, "but we were hungry and more or less shagged out."

She crossed her arms across her chest. "Monsieur Black, I thought I told you—"

"Call me Sirius, please. I know you told me to do it, and I promised to do so—"

A loud, brassy chime suddenly filled the house, immediately followed a raspy howl.

"Shit! I forgot the charm!" I stepped into the house, motioning for Claire to come in and then sprinted up the steps.

Remus was huddled in a ball on the floor just inside his room, his hands over his ears.

"I'm sorry, Moony!" I breathed as I ended the spell, cutting the chime off abruptly. I continued to murmur apologies as I knelt beside him and rubbed his back comfortingly.

It took a few minutes before he uncurled enough to notice the woman standing behind me. His nose twitched and he growled softly.

"No, Moony," I said gently but firmly. "This is Claire. Remember her?" He looked at me almost doubtfully, but fell silent.

"You seem to have him well controlled," Claire commented. "He listens quite well for a feral —"

"Don't!" I snapped, cutting her off. "He's not feral. He's just—confused. We're here so I can help him find his way back."

She looked surprised. "How long has he been like this?"

I laughed bitterly. "Not even twenty-four hours." A quick glance at my watch made me shake my head in disbelief. "Exactly twenty-four hours ago, we were sitting in a pub having a butterbeer and discussing whether the Montrose Magpies had a chance in hell of having a winning season this year."

She put her index finger beneath her chin and regarded my friend thoughtfully. "How long have you been lovers, then?"

I felt my jaw drop. Over the years, there had been many people who had suggested or accused or teased James, Remus, and me of being lovers—any two of us or all three of us altogether. I hadn't expected the question from someone miles and months away from my time at Hogwarts.

She read the dumbfounded expression on my face and covered her mouth with one hand. "Oh, pardon! I thought..." She shrugged. "It is not often that a feral werewolf accepts someone so quickly unless they are a mated pair."

My eyebrows rose, but I ignored the hated "f" description for the sake of clarifying the issue. "No, we're not—involved like that. We're just friends. Best friends, but nothing more."

She looked again at Remus and then at me. Then she seemed to come to a decision. She leaned over and laid a graceful hand on mine and asked, "Is _he_ convinced of that?"

"Moony?" My voice rose in volume and pitch until it cracked.

The werewolf in question actually tilted his head in canine questioning.

"Stop that," I told him waspishly.

She giggled and pulled her hand away. "No matter. Now I've made you uncomfortable. My apologies."

"No, it's... fine," I said weakly. I looked deeply into the golden eyes. Was there more than friendship in Remus' gaze? How could I tell?

The woman from the French Ministère seemed eager to put the misunderstanding aside. "I am much too forward, Monsieur Black. I cannot seem to learn to be more cautious with my words. Please, think nothing of what I said. I do not know either of you enough to assume… a relationship."

I tried to laugh it away, but I know it sounded forced and harsh. "That's alright. I should be honoured, I suppose. Remus, well, not as you see him here, is one hell of a mate, er, friend. I could do worse."

She took the opportunity to change the subject and we then went downstairs to look at the cellar. She offered to magically strengthen any foundation supports and cast some preliminary cushioning and silencing spells that I would be able to raise easily when the time came. When she finished, she apologised again for her presumption and then left.

I was grateful for her help; I had my hands full with getting Moony to the loo and then with finding something for him to do while I prepared dinner. I finally left him in the front room, seated on one of the wide windowsills, looking out on the golden fields.

Dinner was a quiet affair. Remus was busy concentrating on handling his utensils; I was pondering Claire's words.

Remus had told us from the time that we were very young that he had no intention of ever getting married, and so there would be no point in dating anyone. We teased him unmercifully about being a eunuch; that is, until he threatened to make eunuchs of _us_. But, I could remember when he had fallen for Lily Evans in our fifth year. He had done nothing about it, firstly, because of his own resolution; and secondly, because James had already announced he was going to marry Lily himself and Remus wouldn't have dreamed of interfering. Eventually, the wistful glances in the redhead's direction stopped, and his eyes would light up with appreciation at the sight of other beautiful girls. But I knew there were times he would occasionally sneak looks at handsome boys. So, I knew it wasn't impossible that he might find me attractive.

As for me...

I'd had lovers of both sexes. I'd been attracted to girls from the beginning and I was curious about boys. Once I discovered the pleasures of being with another boy, it opened my world to all kinds of possibilities. James would often say I'd shag anyone or anything at anytime. That wasn't true. I never had dared consider my close friends: Peter, Remus, or James. Friendships could be destroyed over sex, and I had no desire to ruin our group by acting on any attraction to James or Remus that I might have had. Peter just was not my type at all, and I never even thought of him as a potential partner. James was ardently, undeniably heterosexual. He was also the brother that I wish I'd had. It would have been incestuous to even think about a sexual relationship with him. Remus, however...

A soft whine interrupted my reverie and I realised that I had been staring at Moony for several minutes—and he had noticed.

"Moony, do you have feelings for me?" I asked, leaning my cheek against my fist and looking deeply into those unnatural golden eyes.

For several heartbeats, neither one of us moved, transfixed by each other's eyes. But before I could determine whether Claire knew what she was talking about, I heard the bell at the front door ring.

"Hold that thought, Moony," I said hoarsely. "And stay." He started to rise, but I pushed him gently back into the chair and held my hand up in front of his face. "Stay," I said more emphatically. His eyebrows lowered, trying to work out what I wanted. I knew he still wasn't sure, but the bell rang again and I had to go answer it and trust that he'd understand.

A flurry of French greeted me as I opened the door and beheld a small, hump-backed man with his grizzled hair covered by a black beret. Beside him was a girl of maybe sixteen, with blonde hair, blue eyes, and freckles. She was the one who had been speaking.

"Could you repeat that?" I asked in French.

Certainly, she could. She, Francesca, and her grandfather, Robert, owned a small farm less than a kilometre down the road. They sold milk and eggs, as well as butter and cheese. Would I be interested in having them deliver fresh dairy products every morning?

A quick discussion and bartering session got us fresh milk and eggs each day, butter and cheese every other day, and fresh vegetables whenever possible. Her uncle, the local butcher, could provide us with whatever meat we would require. As we were finishing our negotiations, Francesca's attention drifted to a point over my shoulder. I turned and saw Remus peering around the corner.

"Is that your brother?" Francesca asked. "He does not look much like you."

"He's not my brother," I replied.

"Is he your lover, then?" The girl's blue eyes twinkled with curiosity.

I rolled my eyes in exasperation. What was in the bloody air that everyone thought we were lovers? "No, we're not lovers," I said with a loud exhalation, "though everyone seems to want us to be. We're just friends. He's—ill. We've come here so he can recover."

Robert muttered something about the Camargue being a good place to recover—except for the mosquitoes. Or at least, I thought he meant mosquitoes. It wasn't the kind of word I had used in my French lessons, lessons that had focussed on business, etiquette, and courting, not on entomology. I actually found myself wanting to snicker at the thought of learning the word for the purposes of courting: "Oh, mademoiselle, you're such a beautiful mosquito, sucking my cock like that."

No, mosquito was not a word I'd learned from my tutor.

Francesca looked again at Remus and then eyed me from head to toe. "You would look good together," she opined. Next to her, Robert muttered for her to shut up and stop making a fool of herself. She shrugged unrepentantly. "We'll leave your things here by the door in the morning," she told me. "When you finish the milk, leave the empty bottle here so we can wash and reuse it, yes?"

"Yes," I agreed.

Before they left, Francesca told me she'd tell Madame Pincard that we needed bread and cake on a daily basis. As I had no idea who Madame Pincard was or where she lived, I thanked Francesca for making the arrangements. She nodded in satisfaction and then looped her arm through her grandfather's and led him off down the road.

Remus crept closer to the door as I shut it. "This is turning out to be an interesting day, Moony," I said with a sigh.

He yipped in what I could only call agreement.

* * *

My voice echoed in the tiled room as I grumbled, "Whenever you come to your senses, I hope you remember this. Or maybe it'd be better if you didn't."

Remus just glared at me.

"And we will be swearing some kind of blood oath that we will not be telling anyone about this."

He growled.

"I hope you're agreeing with me."

The bastard raised one corner of his lip, revealing teeth.

"Fine," I snapped, fumbling to unbutton my shirt.

Remus the prefect, Remus the Gryffindor, Remus the _human_ had been rather partial to being clean. He even admitted to me once that he was a bit girly about liking a long soak in a tub with a book, a bottle of butterbeer, and several Warming Charms.

Remus the bloody damned _wolf_, on the other hand...

"Why can't you just make things a little bit easier?" I demanded. "After all I'm doing for you, a little gratitude and a little cooperation would go a long way, you know."

He cocked his head to the side, watching my fingers.

"Don't even think about getting cheeky with me," I warned him as slid the shirt off my shoulders and onto the floor. I undid the fly of my jeans and shimmied out of them and my pants at the same time, finally turning to look at Remus.

"Your turn."

I couldn't help but squirm a bit at his scrutiny. What was worse: certain parts of my body began to react to his intense gaze as well.

"Moony," I said sharply, making his eyes snap back up to meet mine. "Your shirt," I said, reaching out to tug at the fabric. He looked down at it and then at me, helplessness in every line of his face.

"Here." I stepped closer to him and began to unbutton his shirt, starting with the one at the top—where I could see his pulse thumping erratically beneath his skin.

There is something so raw and sensual about undressing another person. Even though my intention was nothing more than to get Remus into the shower, I couldn't help but respond to his closeness and the warmth of his breath on my skin. I tried not to notice the broad shoulders, tried not to care about the lightly muscled chest that was covered with scars.

_Don't think about it. I _can't_ think about it. This is Moony. He's one of my best friends. He's not even in his right mind._

But then he leaned closer to me so that his nose was near my ear and I could hear his deep inhalation. I knew what he was sensing, because I could smell it too: sweat, muskiness—arousal.

"Moony," I said, cursing inwardly at the tremor in my voice. "Here. You try."

I stepped back and tugged at the last button to be undone. There was a fleeting look of frustration on his face as he turned his attention to the task at hand. Nimble fingers made short work of it and of the button on his own trousers.

"Push 'em down," I told him, miming the action of hooking my fingers in a waistband and pushing down.

His erection came free and I couldn't help but stare. Yes, I'd seen Remus naked at school, but never like this. Despite myself and the situation, I felt a groan rising from deep within me, probably from the general location of my own groin.

"Fuck, Moony."

There was no way we were going to get through a shower. No conceivable way.

_Think of Quidditch. Think of Hagrid. Think of Hagrid playing Quidditch. Think of Dumbledore. Think of hippogriffs. Think of anything but how you want to take advantage of one of your best friends. The one who isn't in his right mind, at that!_

I turned and concentrated on turning the faucets until the water was comfortable and then pulled Remus over toward the tub. This is where things had gone badly before. He'd seen the spray of water and had backed away quickly, not wanting to get any closer than he had to. It was a good thing I'd closed the bathroom door before starting this little endeavour or he'd have been halfway back to Arles by now.

"It's just water, Moony. Just water." I reached in, let the water splash my hand and then rubbed it down my other arm. "See?" Again I reached in, got my hand wet and then slowly leaned over to lightly touch his arm. "You'll love this."

I stepped into the shower, hoping that he'd follow where he wouldn't be pushed, and pulled the ugly pink shower curtain mostly closed.

I let the water cascade over me, revelling in the feel of it. I hadn't showered since before the fight the night before—_Gods, was it only last night?_—and I could still feel the griminess.

I peered around the edge of the pink plastic and grinned at Remus. "Alright, Moony, you've wasted enough time," I stepped slightly to the side and motioned for him to come closer. He did take one hesitant step forward. I swiped a flannel over the soap and began running it down my arms. "Nothing to it, mate," I said, encouragingly. I proceeded to then ignore him in favour of my own ablutions, but soon I became aware of the shadow against the shower curtain.

"If you don't get in here soon, I'm going to start singing," I warned him. If there was any kind of human memory still working inside that skull, surely it would remember how and what I sang in the shower. I took a peek at him and was pleased to see that he looked both disgusted and confused, as if he vaguely could recall something unpleasant.

I stretched my hand out toward him, letting water drip onto the bathroom floor, but didn't say another word.

After an interminable moment, he finally grabbed my fingers with his own and let me pull him into the shower.

His eyes widened at the warm spray, but soon he relaxed under it and let me push and prod him into a more convenient spot. I helped him wash his arms and his chest while I thought of Bellatrix and Lucius Malfoy and other assorted Death Eaters. Undressing someone was sensual. Showering with them was torture, especially when I was trying so desperately hard not to get hard.

It all fell to pieces when I got to his legs. I took a flannel down one of my legs and up on the inside, then paused to get around my bits. "Just like that, Moony," I said, my voice raspy with restraint.

I swear the bastard smiled at me as he scrubbed at one leg, then the other, his eyes on me as if seeking approval. Then he wrapped the cloth around his cock and twisted slightly. His eyes closed involuntarily and he made a noise deep in his throat that I almost echoed. When he opened his eyes again, there was surprise among the gold, as if he hadn't known that kind of pleasure could come from such a simple motion. He did it again, his eyes fastened on mine.

I wanted to turn my back on him. I wanted to ignore what he was doing.

"I knew this was a bad idea," I whispered. Unfortunately, my prick didn't seem to agree. Remus' long fingers were finding a slow, exploratory rhythm that suited him and I found my own hand following his pace on my own erection. I let my thumb brush over the head and gasped slightly at the feeling.

Clever Remus, who had been following my motions, my instructions, almost my every move for the past twenty-four hours, dropped the flannel and, with curiosity burning in his eyes, reached out and wrapped his fingers around mine.

"Remus, this is a bad—" I couldn't finish the sentence, because he was stroking my fingers gently until our digits were entwined. He tugged and I had no choice—I had to follow along with the motion: up to the end of my cock and then back, slowly at first and then with slightly more pressure and speed.

His eyes were bright and they burned with a fiery intensity that completely overwhelmed and almost frightened me. And yet, it also created a conflagration within me that blazed so hot and fierce that, when it exploded throughout my body a moment later, it sent white stars flashing behind my closed eyelids.

Then, over the sound of my own panting gasps for air, I heard the whine. I knew it was a subtle reminder of the pressure that Remus was feeling. I forced my eyes open and saw the pleading in his eyes. Impulsively, I leaned over and touched my lips to his.

I'd kissed him carelessly before—several times, actually. This, however, was something completely different. At first, he was tense, his lips tight across his teeth from tension, discomfort, and uncertainty. But as I sucked on his bottom lip with enough force to bring it lightly between my teeth, I gently wrapped my fingers around his hot, pulsing cock.

He whined deep in his throat, but I wouldn't let him go. My lips worked against his, wanting more, demanding more. Clumsily, he responded, unable to coordinate my firm tugs of his prick with the hungry open-mouthed kisses we soon were sharing.

He made a sound and I knew what was coming—and then he did.

I pulled him to me, and we rested our heads on each other's shoulders.

"Fuck, Moony," I whispered. "If I'd known I was missing that, I'd have thrown aside my 'Don't shag your friends' rule a long time ago."

**Regret will set in, you realise....**

**Won't you please review?**


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Written for a competition over on LJ for the AU team. Could not have been nearly as good—or would not have been nearly as long—without remuslives23 or planetgal471. (Many thanks, ladies!)

Disclaimer: You know the drill: not mine, belong to JKRowling and her minions, have no money worth suing for...

* * *

A human being is a part of the whole called by us universe, a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feeling as something separated from the rest, a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty. --- Albert Einstein

* * *

Was I wrong? Had I taken advantage of him? Was I taking advantage of the situation? Things were usually clear to me: right or wrong, black or white. But this... I hadn't intended for this to happen. It had been purely instinctive. Remus had been aching for completion, though, and it wouldn't have been fair to me to leave him like that.

At least, that's what I told myself as I paced through the house that night, a cup of tea long gone cold in my hand.

"It was just a mutual wank," I whispered. _It was good, _my mind immediately added.

I couldn't help but feel that maybe I'd done something wrong. An immature voice in my head wanted to poke a finger in Remus' direction and say, "He started it!" But I—the one who had full control of my wits and my identity—had allowed it to happen. I had enjoyed it every bit as much as he had, and I couldn't deny that.

I stood in front of one of the windows in the living room to watch the swollen moon rise above the treetops. The fact that Remus had been so sexually curious—almost aggressively so— could now be explained. The full moon took its toll on him, taking him from libidinous to depressed to openly hostile and back again within a matter of hours, minutes sometimes. I was surprised that I hadn't remembered, but, of course, I'd had other things on my mind.

I carried my half-filled cup of tea back into the kitchen. After the full moon, things would go back to normal. Or as normal as they could possibly be, considering my friend had the mind of a wolf. I'd keep my hands to myself and concentrate on bringing Remus back to himself.

I'll be damned if I didn't feel disappointed at the thought of not touching him again.

* * *

The next morning, when I went to check on Remus, he was still sleeping. I cancelled the warning charm on his doorway and went downstairs to start breakfast.

The smell of bacon and eggs didn't rouse him, so I went back upstairs to his room. He was curled in a ball with his arms over his head as if he were trying to keep it from bursting and I recognised the signs immediately. It was a common occurrence a day or two before the full moon, those terrible headaches of Remus', so I fetched a pain potion and a flannel that I charmed to stay cold.

I sat beside his bed in that turquoise room for a long time, combing my fingers through his hair and thinking more about what had happened the night before. I reckoned I should have been glad that he'd been horny and not violent the night before. It wouldn't have gone well for me.

I left him sleeping heavily and tiptoed downstairs.

For the rest of that day and the next, Remus either slept or sat in the back garden. The elongated roof sloped down from the back of the house until it stopped about two metres from the ground. The covered area was paved with smooth, flat stones, and furnished with a small table and two chairs. I sat with him, pouring out glasses of wine and reading aloud from a book about magical creatures that I knew he'd been reading recently. He crossed his arms on the table and laid his head down on them, keeping his eyes on me as I read. It was disconcerting at first to see and feel those amber eyes resting upon me, to know he was listening but not understanding a single word. It seemed to soothe him, however, so I read until my throat was sore. And then I read some more until it was time to lock ourselves in the cellar.

* * *

The morning after the full moon, Alastor Moody showed up at the door a mere fifteen minutes after I'd helped Remus to bed.

"How did it go?" he asked gruffly.

I gestured for him to follow me back to the kitchen. "It went well. Certainly better than I could have expected."

"It might be because the wolf is in control now and doesn't have to fight the human part of him as hard."

I shrugged, too tired to give it more thought than that. "That's as reasonable an excuse as any, I suppose."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black box which he enlarged. "Bones sent you some more of those memory potions and there are several pain potions and healing potions in there," he said. "There are three Calming Draughts as well."

I nodded my thanks and put the case in one of the cabinets. "If you could get us a few Headache Remedies—strong ones—that would be good."

He nodded and then stared deeply into the coffee I'd poured for him. "Is he getting any better?" he asked finally.

"I suppose it all depends on what you mean by 'better'." I paused to yawn. "Does he remember how to talk and read yet? No. But he trusts me more and he's getting good at copying things that I do." I lifted my mug to my lips then reconsidered my words. "He's getting very good at it, actually."

"You realise there's only so much you're going to be able to do," Moody said. "While his mind is taken over by the wolf's, you're not going to get him to talk or read."

"How do you know? You probably didn't think I'd be able to get him to use a fork."

"Black, you've got to think realistically about this."

"You haven't seen what we've accomplished in just a few days."

"No, I haven't. But it's one thing to teach an animal to copy what you do, it's quite—"

"Remus isn't an animal!" I protested loudly and fiercely, my irritation starting to give way to something darker.

"For all intents and purposes, in his mind, he is!" Moody shot back. "Language to him is growls and howling. Books are just things you hold in your hand."

"He likes to listen to them," I snapped before I could stop myself.

"He likes the sound of your voice, more like," Moody corrected me. Then he sighed. "Look, Black, I know he's one of your best mates, and you're trying to make the best of this, but you have to be practical. If he doesn't get his mind back, you'll have to always treat him like a wolf. He's never going to talk. He's never going to read. Wolves can't do that."

"Neither can children, but we teach them."

Moody sighed. "You're setting yourself up for disappointment."

I leaned against the counter, horrified at the realisation that suddenly washed through me. "You don't believe he's going to get better."

"I just think you need to be prepared in case he doesn't."

"He _is_ doing better," I said emphatically.

"He's doing things you've taught him, but he's not _remembering_ things," Moody pointed out. "What are you going to do if he never remembers? Are you going to stay with him until one of you dies?"

I was taken aback at the question. I hadn't stopped to consider where my responsibility might take me, because I had always assumed Remus would get better. "I don't know," I finally admitted reluctantly.

The Auror clasped his hands together tightly. "You know it would kill him to be living like this."

I chose to respond only to the literal meaning of his words and looked around the kitchen. "I don't know. It's not a bad place..."

"He wouldn't want to burden you with the wolf."

"He's not a burden!" I protested vehemently.

"Will you say that in a year? Will you say that in five or ten?" Moody asked quietly. "People who have to care for loved ones who have mental disabilities get tired and frustrated when they have to do it for a long time."

"What are you trying to do here, Moody?" I asked, with a bitter, almost hysterical chuckle. "Are you trying to make me walk away from him? Are you trying to make me want to give up?"

"No," he said sadly. "I'm just telling you that you should consider your options, should things come to it."

"I made a commitment—" I started to say.

"He wouldn't expect you to honour a commitment that you made without fully knowing—"

"Don't tell me what Remus would expect or wouldn't expect!" I shouted, my anger finally erupting. "You don't know _shit_ about what or how he thinks!"

"I'm right and you know it."

Moody's firm declaration made me shut up for a moment. The truth was, Remus _wouldn't_ want to live like the wolf. He wouldn't want to burden us, because he already barely let us do anything for him. He had gone for two days with little more than a few handfuls of pub pretzels once rather than admit to us he had nothing in his fridge at home. The thought of taking up my time and my attention for the long term would be repulsive to him.

"Edgar Bones has done more research," Moody finally said quietly. "If Lupin doesn't recover his memories in six months, he's not going to."

I did some quick figuring. "By March, then."

The Auror nodded and then took a deep breath. "Come April, if he's no better—" he paused, "I'll take care of him, if you'd like."

My entire body went cold and I leaned on the back of the nearest chair. "Take care of him—how?"

Moody just stared meaningfully at me.

"You're not going to _kill_ him?" I whispered, shocked.

"Put him out of his misery, more like," Moody conceded.

"But he's not miserable," I protested.

"If he was in his right mind, he would be."

"You can't!" I gasped. My chest was tight and I couldn't breathe.

The older man seemed to notice my distress. He got up and came over to me, using one hand on my bicep to steer me into a chair. For several minutes, I sat there, trying to collect my thoughts and my breath.

"I won't let you do that," I said shakily. "You can't kill Remus."

He sat back down in the chair across from me. "Let me ask you just one question. You don't even have to answer it. Not yet. But think about this: if April comes, and there's no chance of recovery for Lupin and the Order needs you — Potter and Evans and Pettigrew need you—are you going to refuse them for the sake of a lost cause?"

* * *

"You're _not_ a lost cause," I muttered later as I unwrapped the bandage that was wound around Remus' arm. "Moody's a bloody idiot."

Remus yelped as I jostled him roughly in my frustration.

"Sorry." I apologised as I dipped my fingers into a jar of healing salve. "But it makes me sick to my stomach to think of what he wants to do to you."

I slathered the creamy substance on the wound on his bicep, pausing to push his inquisitive nose out of the way. "Stop that."

He whined and I sighed. If Moody would see us now, it wouldn't help Remus' case.

"It makes me even sicker to think that he thinks I'll agree with him," I said gruffly. I carefully rewound the bandage around his arm and secured the end with a Sticking charm. "There you go, Moony. All done. There's no need to thank me," I added as he tilted his head to regard my work.

As I prepared to stand up, however, Remus' hand shot out and grabbed my upper arm, preventing me from doing so. "Moony—"

Amber eyes met mine and I recognised the gleam that had been there the night we had showered together. The thought of what we'd done—and that he might want it again—made the air whoosh out of my lungs and I felt a stirring in my belly that started to sink lower.

"We're on the other side of the moon," I said to him. "You shouldn't be feeling like this now."

I didn't know what _my_ excuse was for wanting to grab him and snog him within an inch of his life, though. Instead, I contented myself with skimming my fingers up his arm and then letting them comb through the hair above his ear.

His eyes closed and I heard a contented sigh. It was an easy thing to push him over onto his back where I hovered indecisively over him. Should I? Should I not? We'd already done something I'd sworn I would never do.

"In for a Sickle, in for a Knut," I mumbled as I leaned forward and kissed him on the lips.

I felt his hand graze my thigh and settle on my hip. I choked back a moan thinking about those fingers on my skin. Bracing myself with one hand, I let the other hand stroke up his bare stomach and his chest, then down his left arm where the bandage was wrapped.

I pulled myself away, but it was difficult to do so. Remus whimpered, reaching for me, but I pushed his hands back down.

"We can't, Moony," I said. "Not now. You need your rest and you need to finish recovering."

He allowed me to tuck him in as if he understood what I was telling him. In all probability, he might have felt worse than what I thought. By the way that he fell asleep almost immediately while I rubbed his back, I had a feeling it was the latter.

I sat watching him sleep for almost an hour.

* * *

Remus and I easily fell into a routine. We'd have breakfast while I'd read the newspaper aloud. Moony still didn't understand the words, but he would listen intently. It was unchartered territory through which I was travelling. Remus was always the one who read the newspapers at home, summarising the most interesting articles for us. Sometimes, when he was feeling especially clever, he would mix two stories together to see if we would notice. The one in which he combined an Auror raid with the wedding of Lucius Malfoy to my cousin, Narcissa, was one of my favourites.

After breakfast, I'd do some tidying up while Remus sat in his favourite spot in one of the windows in the front room. He'd sit contentedly for an hour or two, watching the birds and wildlife. The Camargue, I learned, was an area popular for raising horses and bulls for bullfighting. It wasn't unusual to see the white horses and black cattle thundering across the fields.

We'd eat a light lunch and then, weather permitting, we'd go exploring. We walked in all directions, exploring marshlands and forests. The Camargue was a sanctuary for birds of all kinds and even as the weather got colder, there were still many different kinds for us to watch and enjoy. There were also magical creatures and birds there in the sanctuary: dugbogs, Augureys, and Snidgets thrived in the marshes alongside the storks and flamingos. Remus had always enjoyed learning about magical creatures; if he'd been at all himself, we'd have been finding and taming kelpies.

In the late afternoon, we'd go home and eat dinner. After that, we might have some wine or tea while I read out of one of Remus' books until it was time for our showers.

That was the most difficult time of our day. I would start the water and he would undress, his eyes on me while he did. I'd wait until he climbed into the shower and then I would leave. Sometimes, however, he would grab my wrist, stopping me from walking toward the door. If I said firmly, "No, Moony," he would let me go. Disappointment would shine in his eyes—and stab deeply in my gut.

But there were nights when I couldn't resist the tug on my arm to pull me into the shower. Those were the nights when the lustful glow in his eyes couldn't be denied. Those were the nights when our hands would slide over our wet bodies and our mouths would crash together in want and need. We would come with howls and wordless cries of completion.

Thanks to those carefree days and uninhibited nights, I soon had to admit that it was impossible to refuse him—and I had no intention of even trying.

He was flourishing there in our small cottage in France. I was becoming a decent cook—as long as I kept our meals simple. Francesca was a fabulous source for new recipes. It only took a week or two before I realised that Remus was gaining weight. I'd been able to count his ribs the night we'd arrived. Now he was filling out so he didn't look quite so skeletal. I couldn't help but notice how his hair was lightening from the time he spent in the sun and his skin was gaining a healthier glow. It made me want to touch him more to see if he was as warm as he looked. He was.

The biggest change was something unexpected. I never realised before how his worry had permanently manifested itself in his countenance. I never knew how pinched and tense he had always been—even from our first year of school—until I saw him strolling through the marshes, face flushed with the wind and exercise. He'd always looked older, worn out, even when he was twelve. Now he looked younger than me. His skin wasn't pulled as tightly across his cheekbones; the line of his jaw was softened. He was completely relaxed. He was free from worry and pain and war. He also didn't have the worries of getting and keeping a job.

He was _happy_.

It was a paradox that left me restless and wakeful deep into the night. In his struggle to prove himself every bit as human as the next man, Remus was unhappy and stressed. He feared and hated the wolf inside him that prohibited him from having a job, a home, and a family of his own. Now that the only thing left to him was the wolf, he had no cares about any of those things.

After seeing this firsthand, I knew Moody was right when he'd said that Remus would hate living like the wolf, but it wasn't because he'd hate burdening us with his care. He'd hate the fact that the wolf was able to accomplish things that he could never have.

He'd be jealous —pea green with it, as a matter of fact—that the wolf was allowed to feel and act and do things that Remus the man would never have allowed. He'd been forced by society to close himself off emotionally for the sake of self-preservation. He held his emotions tightly in check until we all worried that he'd strangle himself with them.

But now...

I saw the eyes that danced with happiness when we raced across the fields and ran across the slippery dikes that marked the edges of the marshes. Remus the human would have suppressed some of his joy, thinking it unseemly and wrong to be happy when our friends were fighting a terrible battle at home.

I saw the uninhibited grin—never the sardonic half-smile that accompanied his most self-loathing comments—that lit up his face when I turned into Padfoot and chased him through the trees.

After I'd knocked him to the ground, I'd lie beside him with my doggy chin on his chest as he stroked my ears and ruff with unaccustomed tenderness. I would feel his chest rise and fall with deep sighs of contentment as he did.

I saw Remus as no one else had ever seen him—except for maybe his parents before he had been bitten.

I had accepted a responsibility only to find that it was a _gift_.

* * *

Thunder crashed, bringing me to full awareness instantly. Not even a minute later, lightning lit up the bedroom, and thunder followed immediately on its heels.

Before I could wonder if Remus was awake, he howled, the sound dragging me out of my bed and to his room before the echo of it died away.

He was sitting with his back against the wall, staring at the window, but the look on his face when I came into the room told me that I'd misunderstood his howl. I'd thought he was frightened, but the next flash of lightning showed me there was something more like triumph in his eyes.

Remus had always liked storms. In an unguarded moment, he'd confessed to me that the clashing thunder and fierce lightning were like a heavenly representation of what was inside of him; that things were so much at odds within his heart and mind that he understood why the lightning blazed so brightly and hot and the thunder had to crash so loudly and frighteningly.

He was revelling in it now, throwing back his head again and howling when the thunder next rumbled across the sky. _This_ is what he wanted to do every time he heard a thunderstorm—and now finally had the freedom to do.

And he had never been so beautiful.

I couldn't have stopped myself if I'd even thought about it. I sat down on the bed and reached out to touch his bare shoulder, half-expecting an electric shock. His body was vibrating, thumping with a pulsating power that made me gasp.

His right hand came up and covered mine and then slowly slid up my arm. I closed my eyes as the backs of his fingers went up the side of my neck.

"Fuck, Remus," I whispered as the fingers then stroked my jaw and cheekbone, sending chills up and down my spine.

He growled softly and I felt the mattress move as he slid closer to me. And then his mouth covered mine, and I felt lightning in my veins, streaking through my blood.

I pushed him backwards until I was lying on top of him, our hips crashing and sliding together erratically, desperate to find heat and friction and pleasure.

My fingers traced his scars and then I lowered my lips to follow. He whined in frustration as my hardness slipped down and away from his, but I think he forgave me when I shoved his pyjama bottoms down and then sucked his length into my mouth.

He groaned—the most human sound I'd heard him make in a weeks—and I smiled around his cock before dragging my tongue up along the underside and then around the tip. If he were capable of speaking—and speaking coherently—I knew he'd be mumbling, "Gods, Padfoot!" So I did it again. This time, I wiggled my tongue into the slit and he growled even louder.

I pushed my own pants down and began tugging at my own cock while I continued to suck his. His fingers tangled painfully in my hair as my head bobbed up and down, trying to take in a little more each time.

Suddenly, I felt his body spasm and I barely had time to prepare myself for the saltiness that filled my mouth, nearly gagging me with the force and the volume.

He stilled and then I heard him whimper slightly.

I slid up along his body then pressed my mouth against his. I knew he could smell and taste himself and he groaned again. The sound went straight to my still-erect and throbbing dick.

I could have made it easy on him and gotten myself off, but I wanted _him_, and as much of him as I could get. I grabbed his hand and placed it on my cock. His eyes snapped open and then he curled his fingers and tugged sharply.

I yelped and then shuddered at the absolutely predatory look in his eyes. And then he leaned forward to lick the shell of my ear as his fingers lightly brushed over the turgid flesh between my legs.

"Gods, Moony, where did you learn to tease like that?" I groaned as his thumb brushed my sac.

He growled in response and his tongue lapped at my neck. I involuntarily thrust my hips forward, making my shaft slide through his fingers and he stopped.

"Oh, gods, Moony, please—" I gasped, my eyes clenched tightly shut.

And then I felt his hot breath on the head of my cock. He swiped at it with his tongue a couple of times and then slowly worked his mouth down an inch at a time until he had taken all he could. It was tentative, and it seemed like his tongue and teeth were all over the place. It should have been painful, but I was too far gone to care. Remus was giving me head, sucking me off. Remus would never have thought of doing such a thing two months ago. Hell, he wasn't capable of thought _now_. This was pure instinct and need and desire.

We shouldn't have been there. I had promised that I would never ask for this from Remus. And yet, here he was, between my legs, with my cock in his mouth. His hands with those gloriously long fingers were touching me in places that were driving my pleasure higher and higher until I was swearing loudly, unable to bear another minute.

He growled deep in his throat and the vibration of it made me shatter, calling his name as I did. As the pieces settled back into place, Remus slithered up and pressed himself against me, flinging one arm possessively across my chest.

Thunderstorms would always remind me of that night: the night I affirmed to myself that I wasn't going to be content with just being Remus' friend.

* * *

"James is going to kill me, you know," I said to Remus the next morning.

He looked up from his attempt to butter his toast and his eyebrows lowered as though he were considering my words.

"He warned me away from you once," I told him. "And I was just teasing you about finding your scars sexy. Remember? He said our friendship was too valuable to sacrifice on a quick shag. I promised him I wouldn't fuck you or fuck _with_ you."

I reached over to grab the last sausage from the serving dish and put it on his plate. "So, the question is: will you remember this all when your memory returns? And if you do, what will you say?"

The questions had kept me awake all night long.

"This is a fine bloody time for me to grow a conscience, Moony," I said with a sigh. "I'm supposed to be taking care of you, and going down on you is not exactly the kind of care that anyone had in mind."

I ate a piece of toast slowly, thoughtfully, as he fought with the jam.

"The full moon is in five nights," I commented. "Can I blame this on the full moon?"

He looked up and our eyes met.

I felt something twist slowly in the pit of my stomach—but it wasn't my breakfast. It was something that then spread lava-like throughout my body: hot, molten, and flowing.

I stood up and leaned over the table toward him. He set the jam down and lifted his eyebrows questioningly.

I cupped his chin in my hand and then gently drew his lips up to meet mine, watching the gold eyes glow as our kiss deepened. I let my eyelids close so I could concentrate on the feel of his lips beneath mine and his stubble-roughened skin under my hand.

"I want you, Moony," I whispered. "How could I want you so badly after all this time? It doesn't even make sense."

He didn't have anything to say. Instead, he began to nuzzle and nip at my neck, pushing my robe aside so he could get to my chest. I grabbed his hand and stepped away from the table, letting my eyes speak for me.

He grinned wolfishly and raced me up the steps to his bedroom.

* * *

Our daily routine didn't change much, except we added frequent kisses and groping and the occasional blow job to the list of things to do.

Moody made another visit two weeks after the next full moon to check on Remus' progress and bring us more supplies. He brought me a letter from James that was full of insignificant pieces of gossip and concern about Remus.

He also brought me a mission of sorts from Dumbledore.

"_Dear Sirius,  
Some documents have fallen into my possession that require translation. James said he remembers seeing some rune translation texts in Remus' private library. Would you be willing to do the translations until such time as Remus will be able to take on the task? I seem to remember that you did very well in Runes."_

Of course, he remembered I did well. Anyone who had been at Hogwarts in our last year would remember. Remus and I had battled fiercely for the top marks in that class, but in the end, we had worked together to translate a document that our professor, Skallagrimson, had claimed was impossible for NEWTs level students to decipher. To celebrate our triumph in decoding the thing, Remus and I changed the writing on the Slytherins' homework in Potions so that it was written in Welsh Runes. As Slughorn was too lazy to be buggered to translate the assignments and was even less inclined to find the counter-spell to change the words back to their original form, the green-and-silver Snakes had to redo their essays.

"Where are these documents that Dumbledore is talking about?" I asked Moody, using an _Incendio_ on the message.

Moody pulled a small box the size of a matchbox out of his pocket. A quick tap of his wand brought it to its full size, which was as about eighteen inches long, ten inches wide and four inches thick. He placed it on the table, saying, "He said they're numbered in the order that they need to be translated."

I nodded, noting that there were seven scrolls in the box, each tied closed with a ribbon and numbered carefully in green ink. I started to untie the black strands, but Moody suddenly reached over and slapped his hand over mine. Startled, I jerked my eyes up to meet his.

"Before you start on that, we have a couple of things we need to talk about."

Slowly, I sat back in my chair. I fingered my wand, readying myself to blast him if he so much as mentioned the possibility that Remus might not get better.

"The Death Eaters are starting to attack the Order members' homes," he said gruffly. "Benjy Fenwick just barely escaped a week ago when they showed up at three in the morning and burned his house to the ground."

Before I could respond, he went on. "Potter won't have told you in that letter—he didn't want me to tell you at all, actually—but he and Evans were attacked a couple of nights ago. They got out in plenty of time, though Potter has a nasty burn on his thigh. Two attacks in one week tell me this is getting personal."

"You've always said it would get to that," I pointed out, probably surprising him that I'd paid that much attention to his words.

"Yes," he admitted slowly. "I didn't think they'd start this quickly, though."

I started to reach for the scroll again, but Moody's next comment halted my arm's movement.

"They sent Regulus to ask Dumbledore where you've been."

I inhaled sharply. I hadn't spoken to my brother for over a year. My Sorting into Gryffindor had caused all kinds of trouble with my parents during my first year at Hogwarts, but at least Regulus had still talked to me. His Sorting into Slytherin the following year had been the first nail in the coffin of our relationship. Pressure from our Houses and our parents grew until we were no longer talking to or confiding in one another.

I had always regretted it, but hadn't known what to do. He revelled in the attention that my parents were bestowing upon him because he was following their philosophy. In one of the last conversations I'd had with him, I'd accused him of taking the Dark Mark. He'd denied it—but he'd flushed and refused to look me in the eye. I knew then that, while he might not have been taken on as a Death Eater yet, it was a matter of time until he would be. We'd ended up duelling in a corridor at Hogwarts. I'd won but I hadn't found any satisfaction in it. What little trust he might have had in me had disappeared for good. We never spoke after that; instead, we slung insults at one another.

"He's been told he has to find out where you are at 'any cost'," Moody continued.

"Shite," I got up and began pacing the length of the room. "Why are they involving him in this?"

"Because, as a student at Hogwarts, he's the only one close enough to Dumbledore to ask. Can you imagine if your father suddenly showed up at Hogwarts and asked where you were?"

"Why do they care?" I asked. "For fuck's sake, it's not like they're going to invite me for Sunday dinner."

"Your disappearance has stirred them up."

I stopped moving and leaned against the counter. "Why? I'm nothing," I protested.

Moody shrugged. "You should know why."

"Oh, hell, I'm not bright enough to work that out," I said disgustedly.

"Alright, I'll tell you. You are a Black. You know a lot of secrets about your family. I doubt any of your family members are all that pleased that you're one of us. They know what you can tell us—and they don't know what you haven't. If you're not seen fighting against them, they don't know where you are or what kind of mischief you could be plotting against them.

"Your absence, in other words, is making them nervous."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "Surely they know I've spilt all the secrets that I can think of already."

"Ah, but there could be just one more secret, one more piece of information that you'll suddenly remember."

"So, what do they think I can still spill my guts over that's so important?"

"That, I'm not sure of," Moody admitted with more than a bit of disgust. "But I'm going—Humping Hippogriffs!"

It was at that moment that Remus had suddenly prowled into the kitchen. He eyed Moody with suspicion as he made his way around the table toward me, making certain that he stayed as far away from the older man as possible. Moody also kept his eyes on Remus, his astonishment plain to anyone who would look.

"Bloody hell, Black," Moody whispered. "He's an effing wolf!"

"Well, yes, but you knew..."

"No, look at him!"

I did and didn't see anything different to what I'd seen for the past two months.

"He's more wolf than man," Moody said. "If I didn't already know he was a werewolf, I'd know just by looking at him."

Remus was now standing next to me, his shoulders hunched, causing him to lean forward. His knees were slightly bent, his weight on the balls of his feet—every inch of him from his shoulders to his fingertips, from his back to his toes, instantly made me think of a wolf ready to spring at any provocation.

I gripped his bicep. "Moony, no," I snapped.

He didn't take his eyes away from the Auror.

Moody stood up and a growl rumbled in Remus' chest.

"Ah, hell," I groaned. "Moody, don't antagonise him!"

But the Auror didn't listen. Or rather, he kept coming, though he did approach cautiously, trying not to make any sudden or abrupt movements that would startle Remus. The werewolf's growl crescendoed and I whispered, "Hush, Moony! He's not going to hurt you."

Remus tensed, almost to the point of trembling, as the older man stopped directly in front of him. Moody held his empty hands out, palms up, and said quietly, "Good lad, Lupin."

A few more whispered reassurances from me made Remus relax his stance, though not his guard. Glaring amber eyes met bright blue, but then Moody deliberately looked away.

"He's filled out a good bit," he said softly, sounding strangely awed. "He looks better than I've ever seen him."

I couldn't help the bitterness or the hint of smug satisfaction in my tone when I said, "I know."

Remus edged closer to me and put his hand almost possessively on my arm.

Moody's sharp gaze pierced me. He knew of my sexual predilections and, considering how long he'd been an Auror, I knew he was putting together things that might or might not be true with lightning rapidity. I was surprised when he didn't put any of his thoughts into words. Instead, he went back to his chair and started to tell me of the last fight between the Order and the Death Eaters.

"... Malfoy was there, of course, and the Lestranges—all three of 'em. I wish to hell I'd killed old man Lestrange when I had the chance. When I was just out of training, I had to help with an investigation in which he was involved. I had my wand pointed right at his heart." He picked up his wand and brandished it threateningly. "If I'd have known then what I know now, I'd have blasted him to bits and said he drew on me first. That would have saved us the trouble of Rabastan and Rodolphus." He shook his head ruefully, stopping to finish the coffee I'd given him when he'd first arrived. "I'd best be getting back," he said, setting the mug down with a heavy thump.

As the Auror stood up, Remus shifted so that he was slightly in front of me. Moody caught the subtle movement and froze, his good eye narrowing thoughtfully. "Walk me to the door, won't you, Black?" he asked lightly. I wasn't sure if it was a suggestion or an order, but thought I should do it all the same. Moody could be damned scary if you didn't do what he wanted.

"Budge over, Moony," I muttered, pushing past Remus. I squeezed his shoulder gently in reassurance as I did.

"I noticed you don't have any wards up on the house," Moody said as we walked to the front door.

"I thought you and Dumbledore said this place would be impossible to find?"

"Nothing's impossible. Considering how they've started asking about you and attacking everybody else, I want wards up around the place. Soon."

"Yes, sir!" I saluted him.

"You're off your nut, Black," he muttered in disgust.

"It's a lonely life out here with only Remus for company," I said with enough truthfulness that his eyebrows lowered. "No wonder I'm off my nut."

He stood there staring at me for a moment, his eyes flickering once or twice back to Remus. Then he said gruffly, "Look, I wasn't going to say anything, but..." Every time I've heard that phrase, something unpleasant followed, so I braced myself for whatever the Auror was going to say. Remus must have felt my sudden tension, because he started to growl softly.

"I don't know what the two of you are up to, but I can guess," Moody said. "It is lonely out this way, and you're both young and, at this age, too randy by half. Some people are going to look at him and think that fucking him is going to be nigh on bestiality. If it doesn't bother you, fine. But if I were you, I'd stop and consider whether _Remus_ isn't going to be bothered by it."

He gave Moony a last glance and, after a curt nod to me, left.

Moody's remark disturbed me more than I wanted to admit, but it wasn't necessarily because he was accusing me of fucking an animal. I suppose it should have bothered me to wonder what Remus was going to say when he came to his senses. However, he'd forgiven me my stupidity when I sent Severus Snape under the Whomping Willow, so I assumed Remus would forgive me anything. Besides, I was reasonably sure that Moony wouldn't want me if Remus didn't want me, too.

No, what disturbed me the most was Moody's comment that Remus was so far removed from his mind that he was more animal than man. Was he? I spent a good bit of time watching Remus that evening with Moody's cautionary words ringing in my ears. And I didn't like what I saw.

Moody was _right_. Everything Remus did that night was either something I'd trained him to do or some kind of behaviour that any animal was capable of doing. Eating with a fork? Drinking from a mug? Taking a shower? All taught. I could train a monkey to do the same things. Sitting on the windowsill, moving to sit next to me on the couch? A cat could have done it. Staring at me beseechingly, knowing that my mood had turned stormy and pensive? Pure, unadulterated canine.

"Have I lost you, Remus?" I asked, passing my hand over his head, and then shuddering to think I was stroking him like I'd have stroked a dog. "Have I made things worse?"

I didn't sleep much that night. I was beginning to realise that Remus needed more help than I could provide, and I didn't know where to get the help either one of us needed.

**Okay, so regret was short-lived.... I never claimed that Sirius was a saint. He's never claimed so either. :)**


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Written for a competition over on LJ for the AU team. Could not have been nearly as good—or would not have been nearly as long—without remuslives23 or planetgal471. (Many thanks, ladies!)

Disclaimer: You know the drill: not mine, belong to JKRowling and her minions, have no money worth suing for...

* * *

"Sacrificing your happiness for the happiness of the one you love, is by far, the truest type of love."—Unknown

"When you remember me, it means that you have carried something of who I am with you, that I have left some mark of who I am on who you are. It means that you can summon me back to your mind even though countless years and miles may stand between us. It means that if we meet again, you will know me. It means that even after I die, you can still see my face and hear my voice and speak to me in your heart.  
For as long as you remember me, I am never entirely lost. When I'm feeling most ghost-like, it is your remembering me that helps remind me that I actually exist..." –- Frederick Buechner

* * *

The box that Dumbledore had sent with Moody sat, forgotten, on the kitchen table that night. When I went into the kitchen the next morning to start breakfast, I mentally kicked myself for not taking a peek at the scrolls to see what they were. Because I had to start translating them in a certain order, I thought I'd take a peek at them in reverse order to see if I could figure out what they were. One seemed to be a recipe for a potion of some sort. Another felt like Dark magic was woven into the parchment, making my fingers feel oily long after I'd re-rolled it. The others could have been anything.

On the first glance through them all, I was amazed at how much I remembered. As I started to look a little more closely, however, I realised I'd forgotten quite a bit more. So, I went digging through the shelves upon shelves of Moony's books, looking for the runes texts. As I did, Remus watched me, his head cocked to the side.

"Which one of these books has the runes translations, Moony?" I asked, knowing it was a rhetorical question and, more or less, ignoring his presence.

And then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw his hand move, reaching for a book on a lower shelf.

I held my breath as he pulled a book out and held it out to me. Could it be possible...?

I took the book from his hand and slowly turned it over... It was a book about magical creatures from continental Europe.

He nudged me with his hand and pointed at the book. I sighed. "Thanks for trying, Moony." I put the book down on the back of the armchair next to us and continued my search.

Again, Remus poked me and then motioned toward the book.

"Gods, Moony. You've only read that book five thousand times since our first year," I said impatiently. "It's about magical creatures, not runes! You'd think you'd know your runes texts from your favourite book even if your mind is—"

And then it hit me with the force of a blasting curse. Of all the books on those shelves, Remus had chosen the one book that had always been his favourite. His father had bought it for him before he'd started Hogwarts. Remus had read it so many times that the binding had been replaced twice.

"Where's bloody Moody when I need to make a point?" I growled, allowing myself to feel a small ray of hope.

It didn't take long to find the books I needed. Since we ate at the smaller kitchen table, I decided to work at the formal dining table. There I could spread my work out and leave it without being disturbed.

I unrolled a bit of the first scroll and, with a last glance at Remus, who was sitting in a chair thumbing through his favourite book, I dipped my quill in ink and began writing.

It would have been easier had Dumbledore told me the subject matter of each scroll. It also would have been easier if Remus had a Welsh dictionary. As it was, I had to make small leaps of logic, filling in missing runes to create words. I had to then rely on the Welsh I remembered to guess at the meanings of the words and sentences.

And it wasn't until I'd worked diligently for two hours that I realised what I was looking at. It was a document about Dark spells that damaged the mind—and how to counter them.

* * *

It took me three days to work through the entire scroll. I sent an owl off to Claire Lambert to ask if she could find a dictionary to translate the Welsh words and she was kind enough to send one right away. The translations were in French, but it was better than having nothing. By the time I finally finished, my back ached, my eyes were red, and my fingers were ink-stained and cramped. But I was also somewhat triumphant—and more than a little dismayed.

Remus' cure—the one and only thing that would break through the damage done by the spell?

Remus had to _want_ to break it.

Oh, it was an oversimplification, but that's what it boiled down to.

The problem was: how did I make Remus want to break through that wall between human and wolf? He was happier now than he'd ever been in England. He was eating regularly; he didn't have to worry about employment; he was getting great blow jobs, if I do say so myself; and he was free to do what he pleased as he pleased, more or less. If he wanted to howl at the thunder, he could.

Why would he want to go back?

I puzzled over the answer to that as I worked on the other scrolls. After some more searching, I found Norwegian and Germanic dictionaries among Remus' books. I also found one for Welsh, though it didn't matter now that I had the one from Claire and had already decoded the only scroll that seemed to be written in Welsh runes.

The other scrolls contained information about splitting a person's soul into parts. The parchment that left a nasty slickness on my fingertips held a spell for casting one's entire soul into another person. I thought of several reasons why Dark wizards might like either of those ideas, and each one made me shiver with abhorrence. I used a charm on my translations so that the pages would remain blank unless a certain phrase—'I wish Skallagrimson could see me now'—was used. I didn't know who might show up at our cottage and I didn't want to take any chances that someone would think I was the one interested in these Dark and terrible things.

I plugged away at the scrolls for days—weeks, actually. Remus tried several times to pull me away from my task, whining as he tugged at my shirt, trying to get me to follow him to the front door and out into the marshes. I tried to make him understand that I had an obligation to Dumbledore to do the translations, but I knew he didn't understand. I was very aware of the irony that, at any other time, he would have been the one leaning over the parchment while I tried to tempt him away with a butterbeer at the Leaky Cauldron or fish and chips at a Muggle pub.

Eventually, the shining sun and an unusually warm day in early December tore me away from the scrolls and translations of things about which people were better left in ignorance. I packed a lunch for Remus and myself, and we escaped the house to roam the Camargue.

We rode along in a hay wagon until we reached the Snidget Reserve. We watched the little birds zip around in their sanctuary while we ate our lunch before traipsing through the marshes to look at the birds there. We ended up in a nearby village where we had some ale and a piece of pie in a quiet pub. An impromptu bullfight lured us to the next village over, though we didn't stay because Remus didn't like the cheering much.

All that being said, we were away longer than I'd anticipated. I realised too late that we'd never make it back to the cottage by nightfall. Starting to shiver from the colder air of encroaching darkness, I decided to Apparate to a point near our cottage.

I pulled Remus to me with my hands on his hipbones. "Moony, do you trust me?"

He cocked his head to one side, his arms sliding up to encircle me as his hips tilted toward mine. I couldn't help but smile at his eagerness. "Later, Moony. Or maybe not so much later, if we Apparate home."

There was no way of knowing how he'd react. There was no way I could warn him. I could only move my arms up to hold him even closer to me, trapping him in my embrace. "Trust me, Moony," I repeated as I turned us both, thought of our cottage, and then... reached for the place with my mind.

We landed in a heap exactly where I'd intended—a small copse of trees just within view of our cottage. But Remus, frightened by the sensation of Apparition and startled at the fact that we were no longer where we were had been, scrambled away from me, whining fearfully.

I tried to calm him. I spoke as softly as I dared and slowly reached for him, but he snapped at my hands and seemed to shrink even further away from me.

"Gods, Remus, come on," I whispered. "It's me. It's alright. _You're_ alright..." I reached again for him.

He sprang to his feet, turned, and ran before I could get the wand out of my pocket.

I know I muttered every swear word in my vocabulary as I chased him through the field, and then I made up a few when I saw him disappear into the woods.

* * *

For at least two hours, I looked for him. I tried tracking spells, but I was too flustered and upset to get them to work correctly. I ended up going in circles for the last half hour before I gave up. I had no idea where he'd gone or how to find him. I could only hope he would, like all good canines, find his way back home. And if he didn't show up by tomorrow morning, I would have to notify Claire Lambert—and Moody. I groaned at the thought.

I walked back to the cottage, cold, angry, and frightened. My thoughts were tied up in where Remus could be and in what Moody would do to me if he knew I'd lost a feral werewolf—even if he was in his human form.

I say I was so preoccupied because it is the only excuse I can give as to why I walked blindly into a trap.

* * *

I awoke to the tingle of a _Rennervation_ spell in my limbs and the sight of my cousin's evil smirk. I was shirtless and seated in one of the kitchen chairs with my hands tied behind me. My feet were tied to the legs of the chair. The kitchen table and other chair had been Vanished completely, and the nasty thought hit me that there was a lot of room for Bellatrix to play. I'll admit I didn't think I'd be getting out of the situation alive.

"Wakey, wakey, Sirius," Bellatrix said cheerfully. "Aren't you going to welcome us?"

"What a surprise, Bella," I said, trying to speak as casually as I could, though my voice grated against the walls of my dry throat. "If I'd known you were coming, I'd have made more of an effort to be ready."

"Oh, Sirius," she said, her dark eyes glittering with something disguised as amusement. "You didn't send me an invitation to your beautiful new home. How very rude."

"It was peaceful," I said, trying to shrug. "If I invited you, I'd have to invite my mother and, let's face it, Bella, we know how she likes the sound of her own voice."

"Don't you think your dear, loving mother should know where her precious oldest son is?"

"Come on, Bellatrix," came a gruff voice from behind me. "Let's just kill him and be done."

"Not until we get what we came for," she snapped. "Now shut up, Rodolphus."

"Why don't you tell me why you're here, Bella, so I can tell you what you need to know and you can be on your merry way?" I said, giving her as broad a smile as I could manage.

She held out her hand and a scroll flew from the dining room and into her open palm. "What are these scrolls?" she demanded, her teasing manner gone now.

"I don't know," I lied smoothly. "I just got them and I haven't had the time to look at them."

"Liar!" she hissed. She ran her wand down my arm. Where it went, the skin on my arms was seared, making blisters rise and burst. I inhaled deeply at the pain. "Where did you get them?" she hissed.

"Oh, here and there. I think I even found one up Rodolphus' arse," I said.

It wasn't Bella who hit me with the Stinging Hex then, because she didn't even move, so I knew it was Rodolphus. I yelped at the suddenness of it and glared at him over my shoulder.

Bellatrix grabbed my chin with her unbelievably strong fingers and turned my face to look at her. "You keep your eyes on me, blood traitor!" Her fingernails dug into my skin and I jerked my head back to rid myself of them. "Where did you get these?" she asked again.

"Doxies. They could be full of doxy mating rituals for all I know."

She slapped me as hard as she could.

My head snapped hard to the side and I heard something crack in my neck.

Bellatrix laughed shrilly. "Aww, poor widdle Sirius," she crooned. "Did that hurt?"

It was my turn to laugh, though it was painful to do so. "Is that the best you've got, Bella?" I asked. Yes, I know I was goading her, but I had no interest in being tortured in tiny steps.

She smiled cruelly. "Oh, I don't think so."

* * *

Her best included several spells that hissed and reeked of Dark magic. There were charms that cut deeply into my flesh, sometimes not stopping until they touched bone. There were curses which burned until my skin blistered and my blood boiled. Another spell smashed the chair to which I was tied into splinters, leaving me in a bloody heap on the floor. Once I was freed from the bonds, my torturers delighted in using the Cruciatus curse. By their laughter, I assumed they found it amusing to see me writhe on the floor in unrelenting, agonising pain.

After a while, I was barely aware of the questions that Bellatrix and Rodolphus were yelling at me, much less what my answers were. But nothing scared me more than the sound of the front door opening and footsteps coming down the hall. I wanted to scream, "Run, Remus!" but my throat tightened suddenly at a flick of Bella's wand.

Rodolphus' brother, Rabastan, walked into the kitchen and I closed my eyes in relief.

"I keep hearing noises out there," Rabastan complained.

"Well, of course, you hear noises, you idiot!" Rodolphus snarled. "There are animals and things out there!"

The feeling of relief leeched out of me; my cousin's voice in my ear asked, "Who were you expecting, Sirius?"

"No one," I whispered, opening my bleary eyes to glare at her.

"We know someone else has been living here," Rodolphus chimed in.

"Lupin's been missing," Bellatrix commented thoughtfully. I felt her fingernail trace my cheekbone. "Is there anything you want to tell me? Anything about where he's been?"

I tried to move my face away from her touch but met cool tile. "Don't know," I wheezed.

"Maybe my curse took care of him, then." Rodolphus gloated.

It was at that moment that I saw Remus. He'd somehow managed to sneak into the house and was working his way toward the kitchen, placing every foot carefully, silently, stalking his prey. I looked away. No matter what Remus did, we were never going to get out of this. He was only one unarmed man against two wizards and a witch, all with exceedingly nasty spells at their disposal.

I hadn't counted on surprise and a werewolf's strength.

He lunged forward and grabbed Rabastan, pushing him up against the wall and smashing Lestrange's head against the surface so hard that there was a patch of blood left on the yellow paint. Rabastan fell unconscious to the ground. Before anyone had time to react to what he'd done, Remus had his hands around Rodolphus' throat.

"Stop!" Bella screamed, her wand jabbing into the side of my head. "Stop it, Lupin, or I'll kill him!"

Remus glanced over his shoulder and I yelled as best I could: "Kill him, Moony! Do it!"

Bellatrix seemed to think twice about her threat and fired off a spell at Remus. It missed him by a matter of inches. Moony then spun Rodolphus around so that the Death Eater was between Bellatrix and himself. His golden eyes gleamed with hatred.

"Get him, Remus," I said as loudly as I could. "Kill the bas—"

Bellatrix kicked me in the ribs to shut me up and shouted, "_Crucio_!"

Rodolphus screamed and twisted in Remus' grip as his wife's curse struck him. There was nothing Remus could do against the spasmodic jerking. He struggled to hold onto Rodolphus, despite the brawnier man's violent twisting and twitching. In trying to do so, however, he was forced to move so that Rodolphus no longer shielded him from Bellatrix.

I heard the word, "_Crucio_!" again but this time, Remus fell to the ground, howling with pain.

"Stop, Bella!" I cried. "Stop it!"

For the next minute, all that could be heard was the sound of Remus' panting and Rodolphus' quiet whimpers.

And then Bellatrix leaned down and put her wand against my throat. "So, dear cousin. Would you care to tell me where you got the scrolls?"

I closed my eyes and wondered if I could _Accio_ my wand and get out of Bella's way before she realised what was going on and started firing curses at me.

"How'd you find me?" I asked.

"You'd be surprised what doors open when you tell another country's Ministry that you just want to get in touch with your favourite cousin to tell him that his dearest mother is ill." She laughed.

Remus stirred, struggling to get on his knees and Bella said harshly, "Stop, Lupin!"

He hesitated, glared at her, but continued moving.

The Cruciatus Curse took him again to the ground, howling and writhing in agony.

"Fuck you, Bella!" I yelled. "This is between you and me!"

"You know, Sirius, you're absolutely right." Bella smiled and brought the point of her wand to my chest. Pain punched through every one of my nerve endings, sending every coherent thought out of my head.

And then, suddenly, above my screams, I heard someone yelling.

Bellatrix flew backward until she smashed into the wall behind her. Something crunched sickeningly and she slumped to the floor with a groan.

"Bellatrix!" Rodolphus shouted, struggling to sit up.

"_Accio_ wand," I heard Remus say. His voice was hoarse with disuse, his words hesitant, as if unsure of how to speak altogether.

I turned my head to look at him. The rest of me was twitching too much to obey my simple internal command to 'Roll over'.

"What have you done?" Rodolphus cried, staring at Remus in horror.

My brain still seemed incapable of processing things at its normal speed: it took several seconds to make sense of what I'd seen and heard. "Wandless magic," I finally managed to croak. It was only a partial answer to Rodolphus' question, but it was all I knew.

Remus' wand came flying in and slapped into his hand. Then he flicked the wand at Rodolphus, muttering, "_Incarcerous_." Thin ropes wrapped themselves around the Death Eater's arms and legs and a gag slipped around his mouth.

"Nice work," I commented. I sat up, wincing.

"Stay still," Remus told me, touching me lightly on the shoulder as he passed me on his way to check Bellatrix.

She was still alive, unfortunately. Rabastan was as well. Remus bound them as he had done Rodolphus and then collected their wands. He shoved them into a drawer and locked it with a rather tricky spell that he'd known since the first year. He'd used it to effectively protect his stash of sweets and, later, butterbeer from us.

Then Remus came to me, his fingers gently probing at the welts and bloody lacerations that covered my torso. It was nothing that Moody's Healing potions and ointments couldn't fix, though. Remus rummaged through the box Moody had given me, taking twice as long to read the labels as he would have four months before. He finally selected the ointment that I used on his wounds after the full moon.

"How are you?" I asked quietly as he began to smooth some of the cream on my back.

"I don't know," he replied after a full minute. I thought it was a sign of how unsettled he was, that I got an honest answer from him. I had expected him to say he was doing well.

Remus' touch was soft and tender and I moaned quietly as he worked his way over my shoulders and down my arms. "Am I hurting you?" he asked. "I'm trying not to."

"No, it feels good," I answered hastily. "You're doing wonderfully."

He shifted so he was in front of me. He seemed to look everywhere but into my eyes. "Sirius—" He stopped as if he was unsure of what to say, then shook his head quickly. "Never mind."

"Ask me, Moony."

Finally, his blue eyes met mine. "Where are we?" It was nothing more than a whisper, but it was accompanied by such a pleading look that my heart hurt.

I placed my hands on his shoulders. "We're in France. The Camargue, to be specific."

He inhaled sharply. The thumb on my right hand began to softly stroke the side of his neck, seeking to soothe the shock that I saw explode in his eyes.

At that moment, Rabastan began to stir and Remus jerked away from me. I was almost relieved. I didn't know what Remus remembered about what had happened between us, or if he'd noticed how I'd just touched him. This was not the moment to find out the answer.

My muscles were still spasming from Bella's use of the Unforgivable Curse. I could hear Moody's voice in the back of my head muttering, "Get up and walk it off. Give your muscles something else to do other than bitch about the Cruciatus." So with Remus' help, I got to my feet, reaching out to the counter for support.

"Do I remember... a cellar?" The faint line between Remus' eyebrows told me he was confused.

I pointed to the trap door over by the wall and watched as he walked to it, his eyes raking over the kitchen as if he were seeing it for the first time. I wanted to ask him what he was feeling and what else he remembered, but decided to wait until we'd dealt with the Lestranges.

He descended the ladder, disappearing for a few minutes. When he re-emerged, his jaw was tight and his fingers clenched on his wand.

"We'll keep them... down there," he said, "and ward it."His voice was trembling now, as if he'd reached the end of his endurance and was merely functioning on adrenaline-fuelled necessity.

I nodded and then used a Summoning Charm to find my wand. The Lestranges had been kind enough to leave it in the other room instead of snapping it in half. Short-sighted of them, really. Within minutes, the Stunned and bound trio were in the cellar, which we warded with every spell we knew. We then warded the trap door itself once we'd closed it. We were taking no chances.

I stumbled as we walked away from the trap door, and Remus grabbed my arm to keep me from pitching forward on my face. I turned to thank him and our eyes locked.

Before I could think about what I was saying or doing, I laid my hand gently against his cheek and whispered, "I'd forgotten how blue your eyes are."

He inhaled sharply. "Sirius, did we—?"

"What do you remember?" I asked.

Tentatively, he reached up and placed his hand over mine. "I think—yes," he said quietly, letting the ending sound hiss between us.

My heart stopped. This was what I'd dreaded: the moment in which all my fears and worries about what we'd done would be realised. But he didn't look angry that I'd taken advantage of him. He didn't look sorry. Instead, he looked—awestruck.

"Moony?"

And then he slowly leaned in, tilting his head so that our lips could melt perfectly together.

There was a difference between kissing Moony and kissing Remus. One was instinct-driven, attempting to return affection in a way he could never understand. The other was trying to explore and connect and find a way to express things that had never been spoken. His tongue found its way into my mouth; my hands found their way beneath his shirt. I heard him whimper softly.

I pulled away long enough to mutter, "Upstairs."

His gaze flicked toward the trap door and I laughed. "They'll keep. It's not going to take _me_ long."

The left corner of his mouth hitched upward, and I inhaled sharply. It had been months since I'd seen him do that. It was so inherently 'Remus' and yet, I'd forgotten all about it.

We went up the steps and, without hesitation, he pulled me into his bedroom.

Tiredness and lingering pain faded as our hands fought to remove pieces of clothing while we tried to devour one another with open-mouthed kisses that made us both moan with want. It wasn't just a physical desire for sex that had brought us to that point: we _needed_ this. We needed to prove that we were alive and were both in our own minds. We needed to verify that we were where we wanted to be—with each other.

I started to shove down my pants—I had already kicked the jeans off—but Remus stopped me by placing his hands over mine. "Let me," he whispered. Keeping his eyes on mine, he lowered himself to his knees and stroked his hands lightly down my legs.

"You're beautiful," he murmured. "I've always thought so."

"You never said," I admonished him lightly.

He shrugged and then traced the inside of my legs up to a hair's width of where I wanted him to touch me. "Didn't think you'd want me," he confessed as he yanked my pants down and sucked my cock into his mouth in one very well-executed move.

"Oh, gods, Remus..." But whether I was groaning at his thought that I wouldn't want him—with his hot mouth and clever fingers and sizable prick—or whether I was groaning in pure pleasure, I wasn't sure. Maybe both.

I opened my eyes—I hadn't meant to shut them—and saw those beautiful blue eyes still fastened intently on mine. It was as if he were trying to make a point that this was not the wolf I'd been playing with; this was Remus: my friend, my comrade-in-arms, my confidant—and I'd better be aware of the difference.

I enjoyed the play of his tongue and the heat of his breath for a while and then pushed him away. "Won't last much longer," I panted.

One side of his lips curved upward and I traced it with my thumb. "You think I will?" he asked breathlessly.

We fell onto the bed, our hands dancing over each other and our lips parting just long enough to whisper things that we hadn't said and might never say again:

"...thought I'd lost you..."

"...I was trapped. Couldn't talk to you or tell you..."

"...afraid you'd hate me..."

"...afraid Bellatrix would kill you..."

"...wanted you so much..."

"Need you _now_!"

And with that, Remus, whose talented fingers and whispered spells had been opening and preparing me, pushed my legs further apart and drove himself into me.

I cried out at the intrusion, and he stopped long enough for the burn to fade. And then, as we whispered reassurances to one another, he pushed himself deeper and deeper until his entire length was embedded within me.

"I fucking love you in me," I growled into his ear, as we found a rhythm that sent pleasure spiralling through my body until every nerve burned with a different kind of fire than had engulfed me earlier.

He shuddered at the breath on his ear and buried his face in my neck. "Love being in you."

His hand wedged between us, finding and stroking my cock in the same snapping motion that his hips were now making. I closed my eyes, wanting to prolong this as long as I could, but knowing it was hopeless. The smell, the feel, the taste of him was in every pore, in my nose, my mouth, and I let it fill me and encompass me and then push me over the edge, crying out his name.

He followed a few seconds later with a loud gasp, shuddering violently, and then collapsing on top of me.

We lay there quietly, our arms and legs still entwined around each other for several minutes.

"Don't want to move," he finally whispered.

"So—don't," I said quietly.

"Death Eaters downstairs," he reminded me. "I would like to get rid of them." He sighed and sat up, then looked enquiringly at me. "But it would be good to know: why are we in France?"

Remus snorted in amusement when I told him Dumbledore had hoped we'd be safe in our borrowed house. When I told him we'd been there for three months, however, I felt a shudder wrack his body. I would have told him more, but he curtly cut me off, telling me there'd be time for more answers later; he just wanted the Lestranges out of the house. I volunteered to go to the French Ministère to tell them of our prisoners, and to ask them to contact Alastor Moody.

He rubbed his temple with a shaky forefinger. "Is the Ministère aware that I'm here?" he asked.

I nodded. "Moody arranged it all. One of the Ministère workers, Claire Lambert, has been here a couple of times to check on—things."

His eyebrows lowered in thought. "Dark hair?"

"That's her."

He nodded once. Then he continued his walk through the front room, his fingers trailing along every piece of furniture, the shelves, the windowsill that he liked... He paused there.

"Are you sure you'll be alright while I'm gone, Moony?"

He shook his head as if he were clearing it. "I'm fine. Why don't you get going? The sooner we get rid of them, the better I'll feel."

He didn't sound fine. He sounded puzzled and worried and maybe even a bit frightened. But I left, knowing that the sooner I went, the sooner I could return to him.

* * *

Forty-five minutes later, five French Ministère workers were pulling the Lestranges from the cellar. Moody and two fellow Aurors were standing nearby, watching the proceedings.

"Can't believe you didn't have some kind of wards up, Black," Moody was muttering under his breath. "Didn't I tell you?"

I shrugged. I could have made excuses—or even apologised—but I was more concerned with the fact that Remus had said maybe three things since I'd returned and then he'd retreated to the front room. He said it was to stay out of the way; I knew he was avoiding the strange people rushing in and out of the house.

"Blood traitors!" Bellatrix had been healed of whatever injuries she'd suffered and the gag had been removed. She hadn't said much of interest and had said even less of importance. "I will _kill_ you, Sirius!"

Moody turned to ask her yet another question that she only answered with an insult. I took the opportunity to withdraw to find Moony.

He was sitting in the windowsill, his arms wrapped tightly around his knees, pulling his legs to his chest. His face was buried in the circle of his arms.

"Moony?" I placed my hand on his shoulder. He was trembling. "How are you?"

He raised his head and I winced at how pale he was. "Padfoot, I can't—" He stopped and shook his head, obviously trying not to cry.

"You don't have to do anything," I said firmly. "Why don't you go up to your room? I'll be up in a bit."

"Moody will want to ask me—things."

The thought of Alastor Moody interrogating Remus—because that's what he would be doing—while Remus was so newly returned to his mind—it made me ache inside. "You go upstairs," I said, letting my fingers slide through the sandy brown hair above Moony's ear. "I'll deal with Moody."

"But—"

"Trust me, Remus. I'll take care of you," I said softly.

He stared at me for a moment, then closed his eyes and leaned into the palm of my hand.

I twisted around and shifted one of my arse cheeks up on the windowsill next to his feet. Then I wrapped my other arm around his shoulders and pulled him to me, closing my eyes to concentrate on my distressed Moony.

His fingers gripped my shirt and he whispered something I couldn't hear; but, before I could ask him to repeat it, Moody came into the room.

"Lupin, I was—"

I didn't open my eyes as I interrupted him. "Not now, Alastor."

I heard him move so that he would be in my line of sight, should I look up.

"I need to know—"

I did open my eyes then. "I've told you three times what happened. If you want more, you'll have to wait until tomorrow. We're tired, we're sore, we're—done. We need some time."

My arms had tightened around Remus' trembling body and Moody's eyes were fastened on me. There was a knowing gleam there, and it wasn't completely approving. Still, he nodded slowly. "Tomorrow, then. You lads get upstairs and get some sleep." He stressed the last word. "I'll take care of this." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder to the kitchen, where we could still hear Bellatrix screaming obscenities.

I smiled my thanks at him, and he turned around and left us alone.

"Let's go, Moony," I said, slipping off the windowsill and letting my hands slide down his arms, tugging at his hands. "Bed."

He wrapped his fingers around mine and let me drag him upstairs to his room. We collapsed onto the bed without undressing. The bed was smaller than mine, but it was cosy and comfortable and familiar to us, perfect for nestling together. I pulled the quilt over us both and then pressed myself against him. He curled into me and we immediately fell asleep.

* * *

When we awoke late the next morning, I waited for the moment when it was all going to turn awkward, but it didn't. Instead, we looked at each other and smiled—and reached for each other.

Fingers traced muscles and scars; palms followed the outlines of bodies. Teeth nipped at tender skin and tongues soothed the sharpness. Finally, Remus wrapped his long legs around me, pulling me deeper and deeper into himself. We didn't say much—moans and cries of "Yes! Fuck, yes!" told us everything we needed to know.

We lay there afterwards, wrapped together under the quilt, just staring at each other for a long time. I couldn't stop looking at his blue eyes. They'd always been so expressive and, now the satisfaction, the _happiness_, was because of _me_.

I had to bring us back to reality, though. "Moody was amazed," I said, "that I didn't kill Rodolphus for what he did to you."

Remus disentangled himself and flopped over onto his back. He didn't say anything.

"Did you know what that spell was?" I asked, suddenly curious.

He rubbed his eyes with his fingers. I suddenly knew exactly what he was doing; I'd seen it before. It was a tactic to stall for an answer or to make up a lie.

"You did?" I pressed.

"What does it matter, Sirius?" he asked with a heavy sigh.

I sat up, the quilt falling down around my waist. "You knew what it would do, and you shoved me out of the way and took it for me."

He sat up, turning his back to me.

"Why would you do that?" My voice could barely be heard, breathless with what he'd done. For me.

"I'd think it would be perfectly clear," he said quietly, turning and giving me one of his half-smiles.

I hadn't known he loved me that much. He could have died, or gone mad, or stayed trapped in the wolf's mind until Moody put him 'out of his misery'—and I wouldn't have known the truth of it. I would have wondered, but I never would have known.

"Oh, gods, Moony," I whispered. "I am not worth that. I am not worth you losing your mind or your life over."

He turned slowly to face me and cupped my chin in his hand. Then, looking right into my eyes, he said, "I'd do it again." There was nothing but truth in its rawest and most pure form in his words and his tone.

**Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed and put this story on alert! I truly appreciate it!**


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Written for a competition over on LJ for the AU team. Could not have been nearly as good—or would not have been nearly as long—without remuslives23 or planetgal471. (Many thanks, ladies!)

Disclaimer: You know the drill: not mine, belong to JKRowling and her minions, have no money worth suing for...

* * *

"**Acceptance is not submission; it is acknowledgement of the facts of a situation then deciding what you're going to do about it."—Kathleen Casey Theisen**

* * *

Moody returned a little after noon—less than an hour after Moony and I had finished our breakfast. Claire Lambert was with him. Unfortunately, Edgar Bones showed up with them.

Claire greeted me with a kiss on one cheek and then the other. "Monsieur Sirius! You have had some unpleasantness, I understand."

I chuckled. "That's rather an understatement."

"I must apologise for the Ministère's part in this." Her eyes were large and full of remorse.

"No one knew that Voldemort had infiltrated the French Ministère like he has," Moody said gruffly. His tone told us that he thought the French had been idiots not to suspect it.

"There will be many investigations in the next few weeks," Claire averred in a way that made me realise that she knew exactly what Moody was inferring.

Behind her, Moody rolled his eyes. "Where's Lupin?" he asked, changing the subject.

I motioned to the kitchen. "He's making tea. He said that three months hasn't improved my ability to brew a proper cup of tea, so I'm making him do it."

I didn't tell them that Remus was hiding. He hadn't admitted as much to me, but I knew him well enough to know that was his purpose. Still, I led them back to the kitchen, where I overenthusiastically announced to Remus that we had company. He quietly greeted Moody and Bones then turned awkwardly toward Claire.

"It is a pleasure to see you again, Monsieur Moony." She was smiling as she gave him the traditional French greeting. He looked surprised that she knew his nickname and gave me an inquisitive glance.

Before I could explain, however, Moody said, "Let's get this over with. I want to get back for the Lestranges' interrogations."

"Overdose them with Veritaserum and ask her if she's slept with Voldemort," I suggested.

Moody barked out a loud laugh. "I might just do that."

"Ask her if Rodolphus is sleeping with Voldemort, too," Remus muttered. I thought it was soft enough that only I heard, but Moody again laughed and clapped Remus on the shoulder. Remus uncharacteristically flinched from the rough contact. I wondered if the wolf was still tiptoeing near the surface of Remus' consciousness and he remembered Moody, or if the events of last night were still making him skittish.

Over tea and cake, Remus told his version of what had happened the night before. He didn't remember much. It wasn't until he heard me screaming under the Cruciatus that human comprehension struck with the force and speed of lightning. It was that quick, he said. He was suddenly aware that Bellatrix was standing over me, and Rodolphus was in a heap beside him. It was only the many hours of training given us by Moody that helped Remus to react, using a repelling curse to push Bellatrix away from me.

"As quickly as that, you were back in your human mind?" Edgar Bones asked.

Remus hesitated and then nodded.

"You don't remember anything before that?"

"Not really, no." Moony stalled for some time by taking a sip of tea. "Everything before that is just a blur."

"Do you remember being struck with Lestrange's spell?"

Remus met Bones' sharp gaze steadily and lied. "No."

Bones leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Did you know what the spell was?"

"I don't remember getting hit with it," Remus said evenly. "How could I remember if I knew what it was or not?"

"But you remember everything up until then, right?" Moody asked. "Black, have you two talked enough to know what he remembers and what he doesn't?"

"Don't worry, Lupin, if you don't remember things that have happened in your past," Bones said before I could answer. "There are bound to be gaps. That's what the spell does: destroys your memory, bit by bit. The fact that you've been living like a wolf for three months might make it worse."

I saw Remus' eyebrows lower and felt his body tighten.

"Do you remember your parents' names?" Bones asked. When Remus responded correctly, if a bit slowly, Bones fired the next question at him: "Do you remember where you went to school?"

Remus gave him a puzzled look, but replied, "Hogwarts."

"Do you remember the names of your friends?"

I leaned forward, blocking Bones' view of Remus. "Is this necessary?"

"It's better to find out now what he's forgotten. Only then can he set about relearning it. Do you want him to be at the mercy of the Ministry or Death Eaters because he can't remember something important?"

"It's all right," Remus murmured, putting a hand lightly on my arm.

I sat back reluctantly and let Bones continue.

"The names of your friends, Lupin?"

"James, Peter, Sirius, and Lily."

Moody spoke up. "Where do your parents live now?"

Remus' eyes suddenly glossed over as he lost himself in thought.

"Moony?" I prompted.

"I don't..." He stopped then looked at me. "Stone house, right?"

It startled me that he didn't remember. As much as I knew there might be some things he wouldn't remember, I had never thought he would have forgotten something as basic as where his parents—and he—had lived for the past five or six years.

I tried to keep my tone light so he wouldn't know how disturbed I was. "No, that was the last house. This one is white stucco with the dark beams. Remember?"

His eyebrows lowered slightly and he muttered, "No, not really..."

"How about your flat in London?" Moody asked. "Do you remember where it is?

It was a classic Remus tactic for stalling, to take a sip of tea and then make a flippant comment: "It certainly isn't in—" there was a fraction of a second's hesitation, "—Knightsbridge."

"_I_ can't even afford Knightsbridge," I quipped, hoping to make his words seem like a joke and not the blatant evasion that it was.

Moody saw through it. "Address, Lupin," he ordered.

Remus closed his eyes and sighed. "I don't know."

There were more questions, some that Remus could answer and a few he couldn't. I could feel his distress growing as he realized certain bits of information were gone from his memory completely. I reached beneath the table and rested my hand on his leg, hoping to comfort him. I wanted to stop the questioning—I did try a couple of times—but Moody and Bones both overruled me, telling me that Remus had to be aware of what he didn't know.

I suppose it was true. Moody was not the kind to deliberately cause embarrassment or pain to someone unless they were a Dark wizard or they'd made a fool of him and he was just returning the favour. He'd always taken Remus' part if anyone questioned my friend's loyalty.

Still, it didn't make me feel any better upon realising that, with every 'I don't know' or each desperate fumbling for a name or particular word, Remus was hunching over more and more in his chair, looking more defeated.

The questions tapered off after Moody and Bones had taken Remus through spells that he should have known, people that should have been familiar, and places he had been. Much of the inquisition centred on the Order: who was in it, what Remus could do offensively or defensively, and if he could carry out a mission on his own. We had no way of knowing that a simple question was about to cause more devastation than any of us could have planned.

"What's Dumbledore's Patronus?" Moody asked, sounding almost bored, as if he already assumed Remus would know that.

There was silence and I glanced quickly at Remus. He looked frightened.

"Lupin?" Moody was staring at him with intense interest.

"I... I don't know."

"Do you know _yours_?" Bones asked sharply.

The cup in Remus' hand suddenly shattered from the pressure of his tightening fist.

"Shit, Moony!" I gasped, drawing my wand to help contain the damage.

Moody was faster, making the liquid disappear and the cuts on Remus' hands disappear almost before they started bleeding.

"I take it that you don't remember your own Patronus form," Bones said almost snidely.

Remus swallowed hard. "No. I don't." His admission sounded like it had been torn from his heart: pained and pulsing with fear.

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply.

"Gods," my friend whispered suddenly. "If I don't remember that, what else am I forgetting that none of you even know about?"

We all froze and stared at him. There was no mistaking the panic that was threaded through his words.

I saw Claire Lambert's expression soften from horrified shock to pity. I put my hand on Remus' shoulder, knowing that pity was the one thing he could not abide in this entire scenario. She, however, was the one who broke the stalemated silence by saying, "I think I could use more of that excellent tea, Monsieur Moony."

I smiled at her gratefully. At least she'd broken the tension.

"There's just one thing in all this I don't understand." Moody took a bite of cake and chewed thoughtfully. "Where were you two, Black, that you walked into a house full of Death Eaters and Lupin wasn't with you?"

I sighed, because I'd known the question would be asked sooner or later. I quickly explained the roaming we'd done and the Apparition. When I said that Moony had run from me, I looked at Remus apologetically, letting my hand slide down to his leg and squeeze lightly.

"Wait," Moody said, sitting up straight and banging his cup down on the table. "You let him run away?"

"I didn't _let_ him," I protested. "He was just too quick for me. I—"

"You let a feral werewolf run away?" Moody clarified further, his voice sharpening.

"I didn't let—"

"For Merlin's sake, Black! Do you realise what could have happened if—"

"But nothing did," I objected. "And he wasn't feral! He was—"

All of a sudden, whatever I was going to say didn't matter. There was the scraping of wood on tile as Remus shot to his feet and bolted from the room. I heard his feet on the stairs and then silence settled over us all. I went numb, suddenly realising how the conversation—which was all about him—had been going on _around_ him, shoving him into a passive, third-person role. We'd been treating him just like he was still dominated by the wolf, unable to speak for himself.

"Well, bloody hell," Moody muttered.

"Bloody fuck, more like," I snapped as I got to my feet. I was now as annoyed with myself as I was with Moody and Bones. "Give us a minute, will you?"

I took my time going to Remus' turquoise room. I wanted to give him time to gather his thoughts, if that were possible.

He had his elbows leaning on the window sill. One hand was rubbing the back of his neck; the other was tugging fitfully at a string on his jumper. He didn't move when I went to him and wrapped my arms around him. Every muscle in his body was taut, every line sharp and angular. I found myself mourning the fact that the skin was pulled tighter over his cheekbones, making him look ten years older than his actual age.

"They're never going to see past the wolf now, are they?" Remus whispered.

"Of course, they will," I said with more certainty than I felt. "They have so far."

"No." He shook his head slightly. "This is different. It was one thing when they knew I was a werewolf. It's completely different because they've seen it. They've seen... me." His voice cracked on the last word.

I leaned my forehead against the back of his neck. "It's just a part of you. It's not all that you are," I said softly. I kissed the soft skin at his nape and tightened my hold on him. "It's a part just as much as the tea-drinking, the sarcasm, the book-reading, and the ability to lie convincingly. By the way, why did you lie to Bones about knowing what the spell was?"

He clasped his hands together and rested his forehead on them. It almost seemed as if he were praying.

"Moony?"

"He was staring at me like I'm an animal in a cage. I'm a—," he struggled for the right word, "— an experiment just waiting to happen." Remus shuddered.

My breath caught in my throat. "No, that's not—"

"Don't lie to me," Remus ground out between gritted teeth. He pulled his hands apart only to slam one fist into the wall. "You saw him, Sirius!" He twisted to look at me, his eyes flashing with hurt and anger.

"Fuck him," I said, forcing myself to speak casually in the hopes that it would calm him. "Or rather, don't. Just fuck me. You can damn him straight to hell for all I care." The tone, I knew, rang of insincerity. The sentiment, however, was very honest.

"It's not that easy," Remus protested, running his fingers through his hair agitatedly.

"It very well could be," I countered, realising that Remus could never be cajoled out of this state of mind. He needed reason and logic—and patience. "There were only seven people at headquarters after you got hit with that spell. You know that James, Lily, and Peter won't have a problem with you. Dumbledore won't either. Moody will get over it—he's seen hundreds of people cursed and charmed into acting unlike themselves. That leaves Bones. And if he can't get over it, well, who cares? He's one person, Moony. He's nothing."

He didn't say anything, but I could tell there was something more. "Come on, Moony. Talk to me," I pleaded. "What's really going on in that head of yours?"

He was silent for so long that I didn't think he was going to answer me. Finally, he did. "What about you, Sirius? What do you see, when you look at me?"

"I see you," I replied slowly.

"Which part of me?" he asked softly. "The wolf or the human?"

I felt a flicker of annoyance. "Oh, fuck, Remus, let's not play this game with each other."

"No." Remus dragged the word out. "This isn't a game. Or it shouldn't be. But how did things get started between us?"

I thought back to that first shower our first night in the cottage. "It just... happened, Moony. We were taking a shower on our first night here and—"

He cut me off. "Taking a shower? Together?"

"You wouldn't get into the shower! Bloody stubborn, you were, digging your heels in... I had to coax you—"

"So, one night we're taking a shower together and the next night we're shagging?"

"No! No, not at all!" I protested. "We didn't actually, you know, for the first time until last night! It was just mutual wanking and a few blow jobs..." My sentence tapered off, seeing the dark, angry look on Remus' face.

"We were getting each other off for three months?" he asked, shock apparent in his tone. "Since the first night here?"

I couldn't take it back and I couldn't lie. "Yes, but it wasn't—"

"It wasn't _what_, Sirius? You never gave me a second glance in London, and within twenty-four hours of being here, we're wanking in the shower together?"

"Damn it, Remus, it's not like I planned it! I didn't jump for joy that you were out of your head because I could finally get into your jeans!"

"Then tell me what it was, Sirius. You didn't want to fuck me before. You and your bloody stupid rule about not shagging your friends... But we're here and we're... lovers? Gods, Sirius! Were you that desperate for a shag that you would fuck a wolf? Were you just taking advantage of me? Was it bestiality or rape you were going for, Sirius, because I'm a little confused right now!"

"It wasn't anything like that! Don't make this something that it wasn't!" I shouted, finally losing my temper because I had lost control of the conversation, the situation... and Remus. "I'll admit I always said I wouldn't shag my friends. But I've gotten to know you since we've been here—"

"You've gotten to know the _wolf_!" Remus yelled back.

"No! There was more to it than that! There is more to _you_ than that!" I inhaled deeply, trying to bring myself back under control. Before he could back away from me, I grabbed his arms and squeezed. "Give me a chance to explain, Moony. Please."

Remus was breathing hard, his muscles rocky with tension.

"Listen to me," I pleaded. "I have given up my life in London to come here to be with you and keep you safe. I came here to get you well. You deserve an explanation and I deserve the chance to explain."

He turned away from me and I saw his hands curl into fists. There was an almost interminable moment before he nodded curtly.

We sat down on his bed and I grabbed his hands before he could stop me. "When we came here, I had no intention of getting involved with you. I just came here to get you well. And then, after that first night... Yes, I enjoyed what we did. Gods, Moony, we're young and healthy blokes. What do you expect? But—" I rushed to add, seeing he was drawing breath to speak, "—something else happened while we were here. I saw you, Moony, as no one else ever has." My voice softened. "I've seen you happy."

"I've—"

I shook my head. "No. You haven't. Not like this. But, it wasn't the wolf. It was you. There was no fur or fangs or claws—or even a tail. Maybe you couldn't talk to me and you weren't overthinking things like you are now, but it was you." I paused, knowing what I wanted to say, but not how to say it. "I wasn't taking advantage of you—you wouldn't have let me. If you hadn't wanted me, you'd have pushed me away. And I wasn't mucking about with the wolf. Remus, I was with you, no, I was _loving_ you because of what I know about you, what we've shared in the past—and what I hope to share with you in the future."

"Sirius—" He looked torn, but it was an improvement over angry. I had a chance to convince him now, if he'd just let me.

"I made it a promise to myself, Moony," I said, daring to reach up and trace his jaw with my fingertips. "It was my promise to you that I'd see you better. It was a promise of what you were once and what you would be again."

"Sirius," Remus protested, his voice trembling, "you never cared when we were in London if—"

"You're right. I didn't. But I've seen you in a completely different light here." I took a deep breath, steeling myself for an admission I'd never made before to anyone. "I've fallen in love with you, Remus. I know it sounds crazy. But I _know_ you. I know everything about you. I've seen your smile as we run across the dikes in the marshes. I've seen you content with Padfoot sprawled over you." I chuckled nervously. "Gods, this is going to sound so poofy, but, I've seen you positively glow in the sunlight. I've seen you like no one else has, Moony. And I love you for it."

He still looked uncertain, but his lack of speech made me think he could still be convinced. The problem was that I didn't have any more words. I could only think of one thing to do: I gently leaned forward and pressed my lips to his. There was only a moment before I felt his lips part beneath mine and he sighed in reluctant capitulation.

As our kiss deepened, I felt his fingers entangle themselves in the front of my shirt. I couldn't stop my growing smile: he wasn't letting me go. I slid my tongue over his bottom lip and heard him groan softly. He did pull away, though, after a moment and looked at me with barely concealed hope.

"Sirius, this can't possibly work."

I smiled and brushed the fringe out of his eyes. "You stupid git, it already has been."

We knew we had to go back downstairs, so we promised each other a longer conversation later. At the bottom of the stairs, though, I couldn't help myself. I spun him around and kissed him. This time, his lips moved with mine, taking as much as giving. There was promise in that kiss. There was anticipation.

There was a clearing of a throat and we both looked up quickly to see Claire Lambert standing there.

"_Pardon, s'il vous plaît_," she said in French. "I must be getting back, so I will be saying good-bye."

I smiled warmly but didn't relinquish my hold on Remus. "It was good to see you again."

"The pleasure is all mine, I assure you," she said. Suddenly, her lips curved up and a mischievous gleam appeared in her eyes. "Although, Monsieur Sirius, I have embarrassed myself once. If you would do things like this, you will confuse me into making the same mistake again."

"There is no mistake," I told her, tightening my grip on Remus. I had felt his muscles tense as if he were preparing to pull away from me. "I think the only mistake I made was in not believing you from the beginning."

She laughed. "I am glad. It is very easy to forget that some of the best things in life are—how do you say it?—right in our noses? "

I felt Remus relax the tiniest bit at her gaffe. "'Under' our noses," I said in gentle correction. "But either way, you're absolutely right."

She nodded. "Perhaps if the two of you stay longer, you could meet me for dinner in Arles one evening."

I glanced at Remus. He gave me a wary look, but lifted a shoulder almost negligently. "We'd be honoured," I said, giving her a grin.

"I look forward to seeing Monsieur Moony's beautiful blue eyes once again," she said with a wink.

When she was gone, I pointed out, "She doesn't see you as a wolf, and you growled at her when you first met her."

"Gods, Sirius!" Remus said with disgust, jerking himself away from me.

"She also thought we were lovers from the beginning," I said. "She could see through the wolf and see _you_—and she could see through everything and see _us_."

He sighed. "I don't know, Sirius. I know, I think I know what you're saying, but it's... difficult."

"Well, of course, it's difficult." I chuckled. "You've been out of your head for three months and you've come back to it to find me slobbering all over you. What person wouldn't find it difficult?"

He did smile at that.

* * *

We didn't go back home right away. I made the excuse that Remus and I should finish interpreting the scrolls before returning to England, where we'd be distracted by James, Peter, and Order missions. It seemed to be a reasonable excuse. It was certainly accepted readily enough by Moody.

In actuality, however, I wanted to give Moony a little more time to heal emotionally and mentally before facing London, our friends, our situation—and our enemies.

Remus avoided all of my questions about what he remembered or felt about the past three months. There were many times when he would stop mid-sentence for several seconds to remember a particular word. I had to remind him of the words for spells once and again. He made me tell him facts or stories about things he'd forgotten—or thought that he had. When my version of events matched his, relief would settle in his eyes and he'd exhale slowly as if he'd been holding his breath through the accounting.

We began to practice duelling in the back garden, flexing our magical muscles. The first day was difficult because half of my spells slipped past his weak and uncertain defences. He paced around the downstairs late into the night, shoulders hunched to his ears, his hands stuffed deeply into his front pockets. I sat with him for a while, but he ignored my more inane chatter and gave monosyllabic responses to my more searching questions. I wanted to grab him and pull him down on the sofa with me so I could just hold him. I wanted to reassure him that all would be well. The fact was, though, only he could convince himself of it. I fell asleep on the sofa, lulled by the sounds of his soft footsteps on the hardwood flooring.

The next day, he did better at duelling. The days after that were even more improved. Six days after we'd started practicing, he actually disarmed me and Stunned me.

We both laughed until we were breathless and our stomachs ached.

* * *

That night, as I sat in the dining room, puzzling out one of the scrolls, Remus came in and sat down in the chair next to me.

"Are you finally ready to try this?" I asked, holding up the book of German runes translations. I wanted to reach for him, but didn't. I had forced myself to be content with an occasional touch or squeeze up until then, trying to give Remus time to adjust to the possibilities of our relationship.

He slid a quick glance in the direction of the scrolls and parchment but shook his head. "No, not yet. I just—" He stopped and I saw his eyes flick to my lips.

I put down the book and the quill I'd been holding and swivelled so our knees were now touching.

The next thing I knew, Remus had slipped one hand behind my head and had pulled me forward into a needy, open-mouthed kiss. I was instantly glad that I was sitting down; I don't think my knees would have taken the shock well.

There was no doubt in my mind that he'd reconciled himself to accept what had happened between us already. I needed to hear him say it, though, because I knew that his words would tell me if he was truly committed to a relationship with me in the future.

"Are you sure?" I managed to gasp when his lips began to trace my jaw and then my neck.

He froze and then sat back enough so that he could see my eyes. "You want to talk about this?" he asked with a hint of incredulity. "_Now_?"

"Moony, you accused me of raping you and sleeping with an animal when I'd done neither thing. You can't blame me for wondering about your intentions."

He stared at me for so long that I started to worry that I'd made him over-think things again.

"My _intentions_?" he finally repeated. The left corner of his lips rose in a lopsided smile. "Should I go to your parents and ask permission to court you? Or wait until Prongs is here to chaperon?"

"Git," I mumbled. His smile didn't fade, and I continued gravely, "It hurt like hell when you accused me of not actually caring for you. I don't want there to be any other mistakes like that between us."

He looked in my eyes as he said, "I know I hurt you, and I'm sorry. But, Sirius, you have to understand—" He paused as if he wasn't sure whether he should go on or not.

"Yes?" I prompted.

"I've been in love with you since I can remember. Considering the state of my mind right now, that's saying quite a bit." He chuckled curtly, his gaze sliding away from mine as if he were afraid of what he might see in my eyes. "It's always been you, Sirius—but that damned rule of yours about not shagging your friends..."

"You know," I said slowly, "I might possibly have been wrong about that."

"You might want to be certain," Remus warned me, "especially if I'm supposed to be announcing my _intentions_." He stressed the last word, and I had the feeling he was trying not to break into laughter.

"Maybe you should tell me your intentions first." I grabbed his hands and entwined our fingers together. "And make it good."

"Pushy bastard."

"You were the one yelling, 'Faster! Harder!', if I remember right."

"And the words, 'Fuck, Remus, make me come!' don't mean anything?"

We grinned at each other.

Yes, I knew it was a serious moment. I knew that whatever Remus was going to say—and my subsequent reply—would change us forever. If we decided our relationship had a future, it would subtly alter our bonds and the ones we had with our friends. We would no longer be Sirius and Remus. We'd be SiriusandRemus like James and Lily were JamesandLily. And if things went wrong, there would be anger and recriminations...

"Are you ready to take this seriously?" he asked. It was slightly frightening how he always knew what I was thinking.

"You haven't said anything worth taking seriously," I teased.

"That bit about being in love with you for as long as I can remember doesn't count?"

I untangled a hand and touched his cheek, letting my thumb caress his jaw line. "That might have been a somewhat sobering fact. Certainly enlightening."

He turned his head to kiss my palm and then gently pulled my hand back down. "I've wanted you for so long that I feel like this can't possibly be happening," he whispered, avoiding my eyes again. "And you want to know my intentions?" He shook his head, but I could see the crease above the bridge of his nose which meant he was concentrating on his answer.

After a moment, he tightened his grip on my hands and looked into my eyes. "I intend to try to make you happy," he said simply. "I intend to share the laughter and sorrow that we have as friends, but to make it deeper and more meaningful." The skin around his eyes crinkled, which warned me he was about to say something he found amusing. "On the other hand, I intend to make sarcastic remarks about stupid things that you do and say. I don't think I can keep myself from doing that, even if we do have incredible sex."

"Do you intend to have incredible sex with me?" I queried. "If you do, you might reconsider the sarcastic remarks."

His grin turned absolutely evil as he leaned forward and whispered in my ear: "Do you think you could resist me even if I would happen to tease you about something stupid that you said?"

His hot breath might have touched my ear, but the intensity and passion behind it went down my spine and through every nerve in my body. I shuddered in anticipation. "Remus—"

He laughed softly. "I didn't think you were that easy, Padfoot."

"Only because I know how good you really are," I said, pulling myself together enough to give him a saucy grin.

His smiling lips pressed against mine. Our grins soon disappeared as our kisses became deeper and steamier. Our hands began to roam and we tugged at each other's shirts to pull each other closer.

Remus suddenly slid off the chair, landing on his knees between my legs. I groaned as his hands moved up my thighs until his thumbs were lightly brushing my twitching prick.

"Fuck!" I gasped.

"That's another thing I intend for you," he growled, just before he bent to nip my thigh through the denim.

A couple waves of my wand stripped us of our clothing; another cleared an area of the table of scrolls and parchment. A firm hand in the centre of my back pushed me around and then over the table while Remus leaned over me. Soft kisses traced my spine while long fingers worked their way inside of me, stretching and thrusting, preparing me for the inevitable invasion.

Remus wrapped one of his arms around my waist, holding me tightly against him while his cock slowly penetrated me. He moved with agonisingly slow speed, making me whimper and practically sob from my need to have him fully seated inside me. His other hand worked my dick, which seemed stiffer than it had ever been.

Finally, his thick cock was entirely sheathed within me and he began to thrust as deeply as he could. Thoughts and words ceased to exist. There was only sensation: incredible, all-encompassing, and more intense than anything I'd ever experienced. Heat raced throughout my body and Remus' harsh and erratic breath on the back of my neck made me groan in fevered want.

After only a few well-placed thrusts, my body yearned for release. I cried out wordlessly, pleadingly.

Hoarsely, Remus whispered in my ear, "Come for me, Sirius. Come for _me_."

It was all I needed for my orgasm to explode from deep within me, snatching what was left of my strength from me. I slumped forward bonelessly, but Remus grabbed me around the chest, pulling me back against himself. His teeth sank into my neck as he thrust almost viciously into me one last time. He howled, making me flinch away from the loudness, but the walls of his arms were unyielding. They held me firmly in place as his seed pulsed into me, filling me.

I felt his legs give out, his shaky and sated muscles unable to support the two of us any longer. He pulled me down onto the floor with him and curled around me, his arms encircling me possessively.

"This is not exactly comfortable," I mumbled.

He grunted in agreement.

"Do you think we can make it upstairs?" I asked.

His low chuckle vibrated through his chest. "You get up first," he said, his words slurred with weariness.

"All right," I said. My lethargic muscles wouldn't respond to my internal command, however.

"We moving yet?" Remus asked, pressing his lips against my shoulder.

"I don't think so," I replied drowsily.

"Your wand is closer than the bed," my lover pointed out.

It took only a moment to conjure a couple of pillows and some thick, warm blankets for us to curl up in. We fell asleep in minutes, satisfied and content.

* * *

We decided to go back four days before Christmas. It was a week after the full moon and Remus was fully recovered from the few injuries he'd suffered. He was as ready emotionally and mentally as he ever would be, he said, and was anxious to get back to see his mother and our friends.

The night before we left, though, I found him sitting in the window, staring pensively out into the darkness.

"You're like a bloody cat," I said, going to him and handing him a mug of hot cocoa. "I'll have to widen my windowsills for you."

He smiled his thanks for the drink and wrapped his long fingers around the mug, but turned his face back to the window.

"What's wrong, love?" It was odd how the endearment seemed to fall so easily from my lips when I was talking to him.

"Are you sure you want me to move in with you?"

"Why wouldn't I?" I asked, dismayed that he was bringing it up, though I struggled to sound merely surprised. We'd only been over this topic fifteen times, and each time I thought we had it settled, only for his self-doubt to rear its ugly head again.

"It's not going to be easy."

"And it's going to be so much better if I have a flat big enough for two and you're struggling to make ends meet and keep a roof over your head," I said with as much sarcasm as possible.

He smiled bitterly and sipped at the cocoa. "I can't contribute much."

"So you've said. I just want to be able to shag you whenever I feel like it," I said, grinning.

"So, you're asking me to stay with you for the sake of convenience?"

"Of course. I thought we had established that a week ago."

He did chuckle at that, and I could see his mood starting to turn.

"Why do you keep questioning me about this?" I asked. I placed my hand on his arm. "Do you doubt me that much? Do you doubt how I feel about you?"

"No," he said, but there was enough uncertainty in his tone that I felt the first stirrings of doubt. "But once we get back and everyone knows we're—together..."

"If they can't deal with it, then they can just bugger off," I said gruffly.

He took a larger drink of cocoa. "Even if it's James?"

"Especially if it's James," I stated.

He sighed. "I can't compete with James, Sirius. I know that."

My jaw dropped before I could stop it. This was new. "I'm not asking you to. He's my best friend, the brother I've always wanted. _You_ are something else entirely."

"Do you think he'll be alright with us?"

I snickered. "He'll probably say it's about time."

"And the others?"

"Moony, they already know I've never been gender specific when it came to shagging and they've never known what to make of you. They'll just assume we fucked our brains out here and it was so good we're continuing it at home." I smiled. "You worry too much."

"It's a failing of mine," he admitted.

"Well, stop it."

"If I could, I—"

"If you could keep from worrying so much, you wouldn't be you." I smiled then pulled the mug out of his hands. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" he asked, already moving.

"To shag your brains out so you'll stop thinking," I told him.

It was quite effective, actually.

* * *

We took a Portkey to Dover and then to the Ministry. James, Lily, and Peter were there to greet us and escort us back to Order headquarters.

As it turned out, they had guessed our time together would bring us to the point of being lovers, so there was no surprise there. They seemed to think we might be good for one another. James did not say it was about time. Lily and Peter did.

We stayed just long enough to drop off the scrolls I'd translated and to tell Dumbledore about our new living arrangements. He smiled broadly at our announcement. "It is a good thing to see two people finding love in unexpected circumstances," he said.

* * *

We spent the next few days getting Remus settled in. We didn't have to clear out his apartment because James already had. He'd decided that Remus could find a better flat once we returned, so Prongs had told the landlord that Remus had moved out. We laughed as James handed a stunned Remus a box full of dollhouse-sized furniture.

There were only three pieces of furniture that Remus decided to use: two bookshelves and a desk that had once belonged to his Grandfather Lupin. The rest of the furniture was put back in the box and shoved into a corner of the spare bedroom closet. His cookware made a nice addition to the kitchen, considering I had little of it. Up until our time in France, my idea of providing a meal was buying some kind of take-out. Remus, however, could cook, and I was going to take advantage of that.

On the morning of Christmas Eve, I announced, "We are going shopping today, Moony."

"Shopping?" He slowly lowered his tea cup, staring dumbly at me.

"It is customary to give Christmas gifts on Christmas Day," I said.

His eyebrows lowered slightly. "Sirius, I haven't worked in months. I'm not—"

"Don't start." I pointed at him warningly.

"But—"

"Moony, we have to buy gifts for the same people. You can pick the gifts and I'll pay for them. It's a great partnership. I'll let you do the wrapping, if that will make you feel better."

He stared at me and I saw the muscle in his jaw tighten stubbornly.

"Oh, hells, Remus. Listen. You've been away for a while. You'll get a new job and you can hand me your paycheques as soon as you get them. All right?" I could tell I hadn't said the magic words to reach him; I saw the storm brewing in the blue eyes. "Fuck, Remus. Don't do this. Don't be like this. If it were me that didn't have a job, you'd be the first one to offer me a place to stay and the first one to scrawl my name on the Christmas presents you bought."

That made him flinch and I knew I had him. "Come on, Moony. You can't tell me that you're going to let me buy Lily an apron and a silver tea service."

He sighed and ran a hand over his hair. "Sirius—"

"What are we getting James?" I asked. "And Peter?"

He stared at me balefully and then muttered, "I hate this."

"Maybe you do," I said, "but it makes sense." I gave him a grin.

He shook his head and took another sip of tea before saying, "Get James anything Quidditch-related and autographed."

* * *

When we took ourselves Christmas shopping, however, I saw the first sign that maybe we'd come home too soon. I could feel Remus' tension rise and his silence strengthening as we pushed our way through the throngs of Christmas shoppers.

"Are you all right?" I asked.

"There are so many people," he replied quietly.

I laughed before I could stop myself. "But that's what you like about it."

He looked confused. "What?"

"You always said you liked the crowds because in this mob you weren't a werewolf—you were just one of thousands."

"I don't remember." He said it so softly that I almost didn't hear it.

I tried to send him home a few times, but he kept insisting he'd get used to the closeness, the noise, and the smells. We finished our shopping, but by the time we got home, he was shaking visibly and my heart was aching for him.

The moment we were back in the flat, he collapsed on the sofa with his hands over his face. I dropped down next to him and pulled him tightly against my chest until he stopped trembling.

* * *

We spent most of Christmas Day with Moony's mum. To keep her from panicking over Remus' absence, Dumbledore told her that Remus had been doing some research in France. According to Mrs Lupin, Dumbledore would stop by every two weeks or so to deliver a report about the work her son was doing and how he was faring. It was all fictional, but it served its purpose. She asked Remus about his work, but he told her it was confidential and he was under contract not to reveal any information. She gently teased him about not telling his own mother his secrets but, thankfully, let it go.

With a promise to Mrs Lupin to return soon, we left at sundown to go to James and Lily's flat. Peter was already there, and we had a great time opening gifts, drinking wine, and teasing each other unmercifully. After about an hour, though, Frank and Alice Longbottom showed up. It was as if the Longbottoms had opened a floodgate: soon after that, the Prewetts, each with a leggy blonde girl in tow, popped in. Then, more people—singly and in pairs—flocked to James and Lily's flat until it was nearly impossible to move without bumping into someone else. A great number of Silencing charms were the only reason that the neighbours didn't complain, I'm sure.

It was some time later that I realised that Remus, who had told me he was heading for the loo, hadn't returned. I started to search the flat, startling three shagging couples—one in James and Lily's bed, one in the spare room, and one in the tub; waving aside six or seven people looking for conversation; and pushing away three overenthusiastic girls with lust in their eyes.

Lily was standing by the back door, a worried look on her face.

"Hey, Lils, have you—?"

"He's outside," she said quietly.

I started to walk around her, but she touched my arm gently. "Sirius—"

Her tone warned me more than her expression had, so I wordlessly waited for her to continue.

"He's hurting," she whispered. "He'll never admit it, but—" She broke off, shaking her head. "Talk to him, Sirius, and listen to what he's not saying."

She squeezed my arm and walked away.

Remus was sitting on the back stoop and didn't look up when I sat down.

"Moony? Why are you out here?"

"Oh." He sat up a little straighter. "It was hot in there and I came out here to get some cool air."

"It is a little crowded," I conceded. I took his hand, finding it cold and trembling slightly.

As if he realised what I was feeling, he jerked his hand away and rubbed it vigorously on his thighs. "My hands are cold," he said unnecessarily. "I think I've been out here too long."

Sudden realisation flashed through me. "It's the crowd, isn't it? Like yesterday."

His shoulders slumped.

I sighed and wrapped my arm around his shoulders. "It's bound to be overwhelming, Moony. We've been alone out in the middle of nowhere for so long, and to come back here to the Christmas crowds... I'm sure we could have had better timing, eh?"

"Yeah, yeah. Sure," he said just a little too quickly.

I kissed him on the side of the head. "It'll get better. I promise."

"I don't think it can get any worse," he muttered.

I didn't acknowledge his comment because I knew he'd hear the worry in my voice.

* * *

Over the next month, he proved us both wrong.

* * *

**Thanks so much for the reviews and for putting the story on alert! One more chapter to go...  
Please forgive the slowness in responding to reviews—things are a tad bit hectic here!**

**(phFlamethrower—I owe you a long response! Apologies for not getting back to you earlier...) **


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Written for a competition over on LJ for the AU team. Could not have been nearly as good—or would not have been nearly as long—without remuslives23 or planetgal471. (Many thanks, ladies!)

Disclaimer: You know the drill: not mine, belong to JKRowling and her minions, have no money worth suing for...

* * *

"Physical bravery is an animal instinct; moral bravery is much higher and truer courage."—Wendell Phillips

"Acceptance of one's life has nothing to do with resignation; it does not mean running away from the struggle. On the contrary, it means accepting it as it comes, with all the handicaps of heredity, of suffering, of psychological complexes and injustices."—Dr. Paul Tournier

* * *

No matter how many days passed, Remus just couldn't stand being in a crowd. Walking through streets filled with people made him jumpy and ill-tempered. Order meetings became difficult for him if there were more than ten people in the room. He'd fidget through the meeting, either jiggling his leg relentlessly or twiddling with pieces of paper, his wand, and whatever else happened to be within reach. He dodged all Order missions that would require him to trail Death Eaters through the streets of London. Judging by the sharp looks that Moody gave him, Remus' evasions had been noticed. Moody would regard him with pursed lips for an uncomfortable moment or two and then order him to go to libraries and small shops for information and items of interest.

Moony very quickly developed a skill in getting information from people who were thought to be secretive. Both Dumbledore and Moody seemed impressed at his success. I wasn't overly surprised: Remus' usual calm demeanour made people trust him. He was using it to the Order's advantage now instead of just for the Marauders. By the secrets he gleaned, the information he pulled from previously tight-lipped people, I knew Remus was doing his absolute best, if only so he could prove himself of worth to the Order doing something that he was comfortable with.

The day came, however, when Moody needed the Order to lurk outside the railway station at King's Cross, watching for two brothers that he knew dabbled in Dark magic. It was rumoured they were to meet with Voldemort and possibly give him some items that would aid in his quest for domination.

"A few Aurors will be there, but they're not taking the rumours as seriously as I'd like." Moody stated frankly. "I want as many of you as possible to be there to take up the Ministry's slack. We cannot allow these bastards to get to him!"

I glanced at Remus. He had paled slightly, but he didn't look overly upset. I hoped that meant he was ready for the crowds that would be at the train station. Moody did assign him to patrol outside the station, and I hoped that might help him from feeling claustrophobic. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to keep an eye on him: I had been assigned to watch two adjoining platforms.

It was not nearly as tedious as one would think. I was constantly casting spells on the people clambering on and off the trains, testing for spells that would disguise one's identity or Disillusion others completely. I was looking at the people, searching for the features in the photos that Moody had shown us before we got here: sharply chiselled cheekbones; long, thin noses; dark brown eyes.

Still, I admit I was nervous about it all. Moody had warned us that there would probably be Death Eaters there to escort the brothers to Voldemort. I didn't doubt that, especially when I thought I saw a man with the long, silvery blond mane that could only belong to Lucius Malfoy two platforms away. Marlene MacKinnon, on a random sweep around the platforms, mentioned she thought she'd seen Evan Rosier nearby.

Warning each other to stay alert—or to have 'Constant vigilance!', as Moody would say—we parted ways. Less than twenty minutes later, however, I felt the ground shake. A silvery, ghostlike figure swept through the air and circled me twice before saying in Moody's unmistakeable growl: "Front entrance, Black!"

By the time I reached the entrance, the horrified and panicked screams could be heard clearly over the sounds of the trains and loudspeakers. People were flooding through every door, dropping luggage and handbags and briefcases in their haste to get inside. An explosion rocked the building again, and the screams rose again, even more terrified than before. It only took a few seconds to realise that it would take all of my strength to push through the frightened mob and get outside. I had to resort to using some charms to shove people aside to give myself room to move. Once I was outside, I inhaled deeply and glanced around to assess the situation.

I was right: Voldemort had guessed we would be there to try to intercept the brothers. He had instructed his Death Eaters to do whatever they needed so that Malfoy and Rosier could Apparate the two men away from the railway station without us knowing about it. What I was seeing was their diversion. There were easily twelve Death Eaters making their way toward the building, all snapping spells at the people who were unlucky enough to be outside and within their sight. Muggles were running every which way, screaming in distress and horror. The few wizards that were there were putting up protective spells and sidling away from the fight. A few brave souls were helping some of the more helpless Muggles.

None of the Death Eaters had noticed my presence as of yet. Quickly, I dodged behind a low concrete barrier to the right, where I could hide while considering my situation. A particularly vicious black-robed figure was lobbing off Blasting curses at the supports of the more modern canopy leading to the interior of the station. I rose quickly, threw a Stunner at him, and then dropped back down in one smooth move.

I waited for spells to smash into my hiding place, or for wicked streams of light to zip over my head. Nothing happened. I moved down a foot or two along the wall and then peered over the top. I didn't see the Death Eater I'd tried to Stun; I hoped that meant he was down and someone had dragged him away. I threw another Stunner at another Death Eater close by and smiled with satisfaction as he fell.

Unfortunately, that did gain the attention of one of the other Death Eaters. I thought it might be Antonin Dolohov by the mask he was wearing and his accent. We began trading spells, and for a while, I was aware of nothing else but our duel.

Suddenly, a figure ran out from behind a parked car and launched itself at my adversary. They became a rolling, struggling ball of black fabric and all-too-familiar brown leather.

"Remus!" I shouted. "Get the hell away from there!"

He didn't listen. Instead, he was rising above the Death Eater, one knee pinning the masked man to the ground. He growled wolfishly as he pressed the point of his wand in the Death Eater's throat.

I leaped over the wall and ran to him, casting protective spells as I went. One or two spells hit my invisible shield, causing cascades of silver and green sparks.

Remus didn't look up. Instead, he spat out the incantation for a nasty spell sometimes called Miniature Lightning. The Death Eater jerked spasmodically beneath Remus' leg. The mask, loosened by his paroxysms, fell from the man's head, proving to me that I was right—it was Dolohov.

"What the hell are you doing?" I yelled frantically, feeling the electrical impulses rippling out from the spell and the downed man.

Remus leaned more weight onto his knee as he ended the spell; the Death Eater gasped for air. Remus' teeth were bared in a snarl and every muscle was stretched tight, making his features look sharper—and more feral—than usual.

"Fuck, Remus! Stop it!" I demanded. I reached out and grabbed the leather on his shoulder.

He jerked himself away from my grip as he turned his head and snapped, "I'm going to kill the bastard!" There was no doubt in my mind that he meant it.

I could see gold glittering among the blue in his eyes and my heart stopped beating for a moment. I was suddenly aware that a bad situation had become extremely dangerous—and Remus, at this point, was unpredictable. "You didn't kill Rodolphus or Bellatrix, and they deserved it more!" I countered, grasping at the first barely coherent thought that crossed my mind.

"You know he deserves it!" Remus insisted, turning his eyes back on the Death Eater. He dug his wand into the man's throat a little deeper. The Death Eater made a strange gurgling sound.

Fear raced down my spine in the form of chills. Dolohov was an evil murderer—by all accounts—and probably did deserve whatever Remus wanted to do to him. But my friend, the one who happened to be a _werewolf_, wasn't thinking clearly. He wasn't remembering that killing the man would bring him to his own death. "Bind him and let the Aurors take him!" I said insistently. "Damn it, Moony! If you kill him, the Ministry isn't going to give you any mercy!"

"Fucking Death Eater bastards don't have mercy, either!" Remus said between gritted teeth.

For once, logic was going to have no impact on him. He would not be reasoned with in this state. I'd have to resort to something else.

"Moony, if they kill you, it'll kill me," I whispered, not caring what the Death Eater beneath Remus' entrapping leg would think. "And they _will_ kill you. Think!"

Remus jerked and again raised his eyes to meet mine. Rapidly, he blinked. "Sirius—"

"I can't lose you now! Please, Remus! Don't! Think of what you're doing!" I was vaguely aware that I was nearly babbling in desperation. However, my panic was finally starting to seep into his awareness. I could see the fury dissipating; confusion and worry and resentment flickering through his eyes and across his face. I pressed my advantage. "If you die," I finally said softly, "I'll die with you, because I won't let them take you without a fight."

He took a shuddering breath, deep enough that made me think he hadn't done so since I'd started talking. His shoulders slumped and I watched the gold recede until there was only sapphire blue. "_Incarcerous,_" he muttered. He staggered to his feet as the ropes wrapped themselves around Dolohov's limbs and torso.

"Good work." A gruff voice said behind me. Still charged with adrenaline and worry, I pivoted, raising my wand defensively, even though the voice was recognisable. Alastor Moody's magical eye was whirling madly in agitation. "The Obliviators are coming," he told us. "There will be hell to pay, and I don't want the two of you here. Go back to headquarters—and I mean straight back—and stay there. I'll take care of _that_." He motioned to Dolohov.

I nodded and muttered something in agreement. I grabbed Remus and pulled him to me as I turned and pictured our destination in my mind. A second later, we were in the alley behind headquarters.

Remus immediately pushed himself away from me, stumbling over his own feet. His breathing was quick and shallow and a light sheen of sweat had appeared across his pale skin.

"Moony?"

"Gods, Sirius! I was going to kill him!" he whimpered, refusing to meet my gaze. He crossed his arms tightly across his chest and leaned against the brick wall behind him, rocking back and forth as his anguish manifested itself.

"No, you weren't," I replied softly.

"Yes, I was!" Moony's distress was bleeding into his voice and into the tense air between us.

A bang further down the alley made us jump and I grabbed Remus' arm. "Let's go inside and talk."

He didn't argue with me. When we first got into the building, however, the buzz of voices in the dining room made us pause. We looked at each other and recognised the need to be alone reflected in each other's eyes. In silent but mutual accord, we went up the stairs and into the first bedroom on the right.

"I would have killed him," Remus insisted again.

"I wouldn't have let you, Moony," I assured him.

"Don't you see?" my lover asked, his panic beginning to rise again. "I didn't have control of myself, Sirius! I was ready to kill him! I would have if you hadn't been there!"

I half-pushed, half-pulled him to the bed and shoved him none-too-gently down onto it. I dropped next to him and grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly between both of mine.

"What if the wolf isn't gone?" he whispered, his eyes flooded with dread and fear.

I sighed. "Moony, the wolf is never going to be gone completely. It's part of you. Yes, maybe it's a little closer to the top than usual, but you're still able to control it. If you weren't in control, you would have killed him right away without even thinking about it twice."

He looked at me doubtfully.

I didn't know what else to say to him. He wasn't ready to believe me and—the notion made me cold all over—there was a small part of me that wondered if I was wrong. There are times when words cannot express what one is feeling. I needed him to understand that, whatever happened next, I was still going to be there. "Come here, Moony." We wrapped our arms around each other and sat there until Moody sent his Patronus to find us.

* * *

Dumbledore and Moody met us in the small kitchen. Both men stared at us solemnly before the Headmaster asked, "How are you, Remus?"

My partner swallowed hard. "I've been better."

"What happened, Lupin?" Moody asked. I'd never heard him speak so gently.

The man's unexpected tone made Remus' shoulders hunch in shame. "I was outside, just like you'd ordered—"

"No. What happened with that Death Eater?"

Remus dropped his gaze to his shoes.

Moody and Dumbledore exchanged glances, seemingly having a wordless conversation. Moody suddenly nodded and tilted his head in our direction.

The Headmaster smiled reassuringly as he turned to us. "Remus, am I right in saying that you haven't been very comfortable since you've been back?"

Moony hesitated before saying softly, "Yes."

"We've noticed that you have been avoiding crowds," Dumbledore said quietly.

Remus shrugged slightly. Confession might be good for the soul, but it was doing nothing good for him: he was pale and he stuffed his hands in his pockets as he did when his hands were shaking.

The Headmaster gently placed his hand on Remus' shoulder. "It's been difficult for you, Remus, and we've noticed that. You have taken amazing steps toward your recovery, but I wonder if you've had enough time?"

I saw alarm streak across Remus' face, and I think we were wondering the same thing: was Dumbledore going to release him from the Order? I felt a lump rise in my throat. The Order was the one thing in Remus' life that consistently gave him purpose and made him feel—human. Or so he said. Whatever I thought about his phrasing didn't matter; the message was clear: Moony loved the Order of the Phoenix—the people and what it represented and what it accomplished. There was nothing he wouldn't do for any one of its members, and he would be devastated if he was no longer able to be part of it. He tried to step back, to step away from Dumbledore, to keep from hearing the words we both suspected were coming. The older man tightened his grip on my friend, however. "It will be fine, Remus. Have patience and have faith."

"You've got some bloody amazing defensive spells," Moody said somewhat impatiently, though intuiting what was disturbing Remus. "We're not letting you go."

Moony's eyes widened. "You're not?"

"Not at all. Besides your defensive work, you've demonstrated a definite knack for research and getting information in the past month." Dumbledore's smile returned, looking surprisingly smug. "The timing for us to discover that talent could not better."

Remus tilted his head and gave the older man a wary look. "How so, sir?"

"In case you hadn't discerned it from the scrolls I sent to Sirius, I have received information that Voldemort has been dedicating a lot of time, effort, and money to discovering the secrets of the soul and immortality. However, I know there are many avenues we need to pursue. There are people who know bits of things that, once we've assembled the pieces, will tell us exactly what Tom Riddle has achieved and how we can thwart him. Or so is my hope."

"And?" Remus prompted cautiously.

"I'd like you and Sirius to consider taking on the responsibility of doing the lion's share of this. I need someone reliable, clever, and yet, intuitive. Between the two of you, I think you could be exactly what we need."

Remus looked at me, and for the first time in a long time, I saw a flicker of hope in his eyes.

"There is one small—concern," Dumbledore's caution nearly dowsed Remus'—and my—rising interest. "Some of the things you will be researching will be dangerous. The runes translations I may need you to do might bore you to tears. I may need to send you to other countries or into dangerous situations and places."

I know my curiosity was piqued, and I tried to keep from grabbing the man and shaking him to find out what his point really was.

"I do think, however, that you will need time and space to concentrate and study," the Headmaster continued. "You will need to be able to come and go without being traced easily."

"In other words," Moody said, "You'll have to go back into hiding."

"We would ask that you keep yourselves available for some of our larger missions," Dumbledore added.

"Where would we go?" I asked, almost breathless.

"There is a small cottage in France... I believe you might be familiar with it."

It took a few seconds for it to sink in.

"It wouldn't be located a few miles south of Arles, would it?" I asked, attempting to sound flippant, but failing miserably. It sounded like I was almost begging for a positive answer.

"As a matter of fact, it is," Dumbledore replied, his blue eyes twinkling.

I turned and looked at Remus. He looked almost frightened. "Moony?"

"It's not possible," he said softly. "It can't be that simple, can it?"

"The simplest things in life are often the best," the Headmaster said with a sly smile. "You do not need to make the decision right away, for I know there are many things to consider. Why don't you go home and discuss it? Perhaps you could meet me at the Three Broomsticks tomorrow morning with your answer?"

We didn't need to discuss it quite that long. I think the matter was settled within ten minutes. Moony's still tender psyche and my concern for him made it an obvious decision.

* * *

**Epilogue**

"There is only one happiness in life -- to love and to be loved."—George Sand

* * *

"Come on, Moony! I want to be there before it shows up!"

There was a quiet chuckle. "You weren't this excited about your own Hogwarts letter, were you?"

"Yes, I was," I called back, turning another page of the catalogue that I was perusing. "But only because I knew I was getting out of that mausoleum."

Again, he laughed softly. A moment later, he came into our turquoise bedroom and stopped in front of me. "You can't be serious."

I looked up at my partner in crime, research, and life and grinned. "You can't expect me to let them send Harry off to Hogwarts without some little token."

"Padfoot, he won't be allowed to have a broom in his first year."

I sighed and let my shoulders slump dejectedly. He'd seen the small hole in my plan so easily. "Yes, I know."

"So, why don't you get him something you know he can use?" The corners of Moony's eyes crinkled as they did when he was truly amused about something—or when he was up to something.

I sat up straight and closed the catalogue filled with racing brooms. "What do you have in mind, Moony?"

He crossed to the wardrobe and reached into its depths for a brown paper bag.

I took one look at the name on the side and grinned. "Perfect!"

His smirk was positively evil. "Of course."

* * *

"What in the world are those?" James asked, turning the small paper-covered nuggets around to inspect each side.

Remus and I looked at each other and then at Lily. She sighed in disgust. "Fine," she snapped. "Have your little boy secrets. But if Harry gets detention because of any of this rubbish, I'll have my revenge."

I shuddered. "Gods, Lily. As if the thought of Voldemort coming back isn't enough to haunt me!"

She smiled wickedly and left the room, leaving the three of us to upend the bag altogether and start to paw through the items that cascaded onto the table like excited children.

"This is the French version of a Dungbomb," I said, holding up one item.

Remus pointed to another. "That creates an oil spill the size of a small room."

"This one creates a cloud of smoke."

"When you break this open, you'll hear bells and whistles and sirens and all kinds of other noises. It's great for a distraction."

"This one will trace someone's footsteps."

"And this one—"

"How come they didn't have this shite when we were in school?" James demanded, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"They might have," Remus said with a shrug. "But these things are French."

"The French are devious little buggers," I added. "Subversive."

James laughed. "You two fit in perfectly then."

Remus chuckled, and I asked in feigned shock, "What? You thought we were there just because we liked the food?"

James reached over and poked me in the belly. "I can see you like the food."

"Hey!" I protested, smoothing my shirt down over the still flat stomach muscles.

"I keep telling him he can't eat an entire cake in one go anymore," Remus sighed in mock dismay. "He just won't listen."

A few more teasing barbs somehow led to a wild wrestling match on the floor between James and me, while Remus scooped up the things we'd brought for Harry and put them back into the bag.

"Gods, Sirius, you weigh as much as a bloody Hippogriff!" James panted once I had him pinned to the floor.

I bounced on his spine and he gasped out a groan.

Harry suddenly raced into the room. "Remus! Sirius! Look! I got my letter!"

"Congratulations, Prongslet!" I shouted, scrambling to my feet, and grinning like a fool. Harry grimaced and I saw Remus roll his eyes. "What?"

"Sirius, a boy going to Hogwarts is not going to appreciate the name 'Prongslet' as much as he did when he was four," Remus said calmly.

I wasn't going to be deterred. "All right, then. What about Prongs Junior?"

"Sirius!" Harry moaned.

"Mini-stag?"

Groans from everyone at that.

"At least I didn't say 'Fawn'," I pointed out. "Buck?"

"Harry will do just fine," the boy in question stated firmly. "What did you bring me?"

Remus and I visited the Potters at least once every two weeks, but we always brought something for Harry. He was more than just the son of our best friends, James and Lily. He was one of the inspirations for us to finally defeat Voldemort.

"What makes you think we brought you something?"

"You always bring us something." The boy grinned shamelessly.

Remus held the bag out toward Harry. "Just remember that I was the one who picked these out. Your godfather was eyeing up brooms that you wouldn't be able to use this year."

"Next year, though," I promised.

While Harry goggled over the items and the explanations that Remus was giving him—as well as tips as to how to use the things to their maximum effect—James pulled me aside.

"Lily's told me to tell you that we can't make any more comments about Snape."

I clutched at my heart. "She can't mean it!"

"She said it's time to let bygones be bygones and be mature about things—yes, yes, I know," he hurried to add, seeing the look of horror that I knew was on my face. I noticed that he sounded rather disgusted by the situation himself. "But he did warn Dumbledore about Voldemort targeting Harry, and he did help set up the trap."

"Just because he helped get rid of Voldemort in the end doesn't mean shit to me," I grumbled, but even I could tell that I didn't really mean it. Snape had done an uncommonly brave and un-Slytherin thing by coming to Dumbledore and betraying the Dark Lord. "Just because he wanted free of Voldy's leash—"

"Yes, but he did put his life in danger for Lily's sake and I have to respect that," James said grudgingly. "Or so Lily tells me. She did also point out, though, that Harry has to put up with Snape for the next seven years, so it could go badly for him if he's carrying my piss-poor attitude and prejudices into class with him."

I stared at my brother-in-all-but-name. "She said that?"

"Do you think I would have? I wanted to give Harry a Dungbomb and a bottle of shampoo and tell him to leave both in Snape's office the first chance he got!"

"Bloody stupid idea making him a professor, anyhow," I said resentfully. Then I brightened. "If they'll hire a Death Eater, do you suppose they'll ever hire a werewolf to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts? You know Moony's always wanted to teach at Hogwarts."

James glanced over at Remus, who was writing something down for Harry. What it was—instructions for mischief, directions for placing some of the items we'd brought, or just some interesting swear words to use—I didn't know. Considering how absolutely diabolical Remus could be, I was afraid to ask. "Are the two of you done looking for Horcruxes, then?" James asked.

I hesitated before answering. "I don't know whether we got all the Horcruxes or not. There's no way of knowing until Voldemort comes back—_if_ he comes back."

It was a year after we'd returned to France before Remus and I were able to confirm that Voldemort had found a possible means for immortality. Dumbledore had been collecting memories of Tom Riddle—the man who would become the Dark Lord—to find the chink in his armour to destroy him once and for all. A memory from our Potions professor, Horace Slughorn, gave us a clue, but it had obviously been tampered with.

Moony and I recruited Lily to help us. She'd always been one of his favourites because of her skill at potion brewing and had been in Slughorn's Slug Club. She went to Slughorn's house and pleaded with him to give her the memory—the real one. Lily appealed to him on every level that she could, reminding Slughorn how she'd had always looked up to her favourite Potions professor; telling him how wonderful the victory over Voldemort would be and how he would feel having played such a crucial role; telling him about Harry and what he was like; and then nearly bludgeoning poor Sluggy with how she was fighting for the chance to have her son grow up in a world of peace.

In the end, Slughorn gave her the memory: a conversation Slughorn and Tom Riddle had about Horcruxes. It was a very difficult and very Dark piece of magic, imbuing objects with bits of a Dark wizard's soul so that he would remain alive while those pieces existed. It was almost awe-inspiring to realise that Voldemort had created not just one, but several of them. We made up lists of possible items that Voldemort could have used and went hunting for them. We went into places we'd never have dared go otherwise: into the Lestranges' vault at Gringotts, and back to my childhood home at Grimmauld Place, to name two.

We hadn't heard of any other Horcruxes recently, and we'd been relentless in searching out those who might know. I was beginning to think—no, I was beginning to hope—that we'd gotten them all. Hopefully, when Voldemort returned—if he returned—we could destroy him once and for all.

Remus sent Harry off to hide the bag of troublesome little items in his trunk and turned to face us. He froze and then slowly cocked his head to one side. "You two look like you're plotting something," he said suspiciously.

"Who, us?" James motioned to himself and then me. "Not us. Never."

I gave my lover my most innocuous smile. "I'm as innocent as freshly fallen snow."

Remus pretended to retch and then clapped James on the shoulder. "Your eldest is heading to Hogwarts, Prongs. Do you feel old?"

"You should feel even older. Your birthday is before mine." James poked a finger at Moony's hair. "What's that? Is that grey?"

Remus smacked his hand away. "Shut up, you prat."

"Why is it that every time I come into a room, someone is hitting someone else?" Lily asked, exasperated. "Honestly, you lot are like children!"

"There's the baby!" I cooed, reaching for the bundle that Lily held in her hands.

"No cursing, wrestling, or disgusting behaviour while you're holding him," Lily warned.

"You say that every time," I complained.

"That's because I'm stupidly hoping you'll listen this time."

"He did that with Harry and Harry's turned out all right," Remus pointed out, oh-so-helpfully.

"Don't defend him!" Lily cried. "Why did we name you Peter's godfather again?"

The Order had lost several brilliant witches and wizards in the years of the war, but none of the losses hurt as badly as the loss of Peter. After Snape had come to Dumbledore with the information that Voldemort was going to try to kill Harry, Dumbledore had recommended the Potters hide themselves immediately under a Fidelius Charm. I agreed straightaway when they asked me to be their Secret Keeper.

Peter worried that the Death Eaters would come after me. He pointed out that the Death Eaters would know I was closer to James than anyone, and I was too obvious. He suggested James and Lily use someone else as their Secret Keeper. He even volunteered. I appreciated his concern for my safety, but I thought that my absence from England for so long would act as a sort of smokescreen. I argued that it was more likely that Peter himself would be thought of as the Secret Keeper, considering that he'd been spending more time with James since I was gone.

In the end, Peter agreed that the Death Eaters' assumption of his involvement would mean he should go into hiding as well for his own safety. Remus and I offered to let him stay with us in France, but he told us he would skip around England for a while. His hope was that the Death Eaters would think he was trying to hide because he was the Secret Keeper, and he could draw their attention away from me. We told him to be careful. He was smiling when he assured us he would be.

Within a matter of three days, however, Peter was killed by Death Eaters in Blackpool. The only recognisable part of him that remained was a finger.

When Harry's little brother was born, it was a matter of rejoicing because James and Lily had tried so hard and for so long to have another child. There had been no question in their minds that they would name the baby after our fallen friend.

Remus reached into the pocket of his sports jacket and pulled out a small stuffed toy which he dangled in front of Peter's hazel eyes.

"Prank items for Harry, a stuffed toy for Peter—Curse Breaking is treating you well this week," James said, referring to the freelance work that Remus often did.

Moony smiled lopsidedly. "Well, it hasn't killed me yet."

"Oh!" I smacked my forehead lightly with the palm of my hand. "Speaking of death... Do you have the you-know-whatsit?"

Remus rolled his eyes. "Such a charming introduction to the subject." Muttering the word 'death' under his breath, he reached into his other jacket pocket for an ivory vellum envelope.

"What's this, then?" James asked, struggling to open it.

"Read it." I went to stand next to my lover while James read the letter. Prongs' eyes were shining with barely suppressed excitement as he handed the letter to Lily to read.

Lily's lips mouthed the words, and I felt like I was reading it with her: "Dear Monsieur Lupin: A position has just become available in our school... Defensive Magic... the Headmaster at Hogwarts... recommended you as a person who might suit our needs..."

"Remus," Lily said breathlessly, "Beauxbatons? Really?"

Moony smiled. "Unless the letter is a very elaborate and cruel prank designed by your husband and my partner, I'm rather inclined to think it's authentic."

Lily let out a rather undignified squeal and launched herself at Remus, almost knocking him over. Peter jumped at her loud and rambunctious display of over-enthusiasm and began to cry.

"Lily! What kind of mother are you, scaring your son like that?" I asked, but I couldn't keep the smile from my face.

She ignored me, hooking her arm through Remus' and dragging him into the kitchen, probably to open a bottle of wine to celebrate. She was already firing question after question at him: "When did you get the letter? Have you accepted already? When do you start?"

James and I stared at each other with bemused smiles.

"Gods, it's great to see him finally getting something that he's wanted so badly," James said.

I tilted my face down toward Peter's, not wanting James to see the tears of pride that had suddenly risen to my eyes. The sudden weight of James' hand on my shoulder told me he'd seen them anyhow. "He deserves this." My voice shook a little.

"He does," James agreed.

"Who'd have ever thought that going to France would turn out to be the best damned thing we ever could have done?" It was purely rhetorical, but James gave a reply anyhow.

"I'll admit that I thought you were making a huge mistake." He smiled. "Honestly, Sirius, I didn't think you could cope with the responsibility."

I looked at Peter. "Huh. Listen to him. He didn't think I was responsible enough to take care of your uncle Moony. Your father is a right arse."

"I was," he conceded. "But I've changed my mind since then." He bit his lip as if he wasn't sure whether he should continue his thought. "You're good for one another, Padfoot. I'm glad you have each other."

He'd never said it before. Granted, he'd accepted us with no questions and only a few teasing comments, but it meant a lot to me to hear him say it. "You only say that because you don't want me around here all the time," I said gruffly.

"That is true." Then his grin spread across his face and he leaned over to ruffle my hair.

I complained loudly, balancing Peter in one arm while raising my other hand to push the errant strands back in place.

"Vain mutt," Prongs teased.

"Daft deer."

"Would the two of you get your bloody arses in here?"

"Remus John Lupin! Watch your language!"

"Sorry, Lily!"

"And you think you're going to teach children with that mouth?" Lily was asking Remus as I walked into the kitchen.

"Yes, and he'll do it brilliantly," I said confidently. I leaned over and pressed my lips to his to prove that his mouth was good for other things as well.

As we drank a toast to Remus and his new job, I couldn't help but stare, noticing how beautifully happy he was. Yes, he had streaks of grey in his hair that hadn't been there even five years ago. The little wrinkles at the corners of his eyes were a little more pronounced now. But the relaxed, content expression on his face was similar to the one I'd seen thirteen years ago, running through the marshes in the Camargue. I could feel my want and need for him thrumming through my veins just as strongly as it ever did.

As if he knew what I was thinking, he looked over at me and lifted his glass in a silent salute, but I shook my head. I didn't deserve the acknowledgement; the triumph was all his own. He'd fought hard to regain his memory and his humanity. He'd worked hard to prove himself. He'd learned to accept my love unconditionally.

And I'd learned that happiness and love were best seen in blue—not golden—eyes.

**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed or put this story on alert. I truly appreciate the support! :)**


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